The Emissary Clause
by etiquette-faux-pas
Summary: Have you ever written a letter to Santa, in August? Annise Connelly, age 10 did. What did she ask for? Her father's life - he's dying of cancer. Oh, and one more thing...a friend - or more- for her big sister, 17 year old Ellington. Little did she know that her letter would bring to light something ignored for fourteen centuries...The Emissary Clause. And her wishes? We'll see.
1. An Unexpected Dilemma

**_Author's Ramblings~_**

**_Hey everybody! Ana here. So this is officially my very first Fanfic. Sure I've read enough of them, but until now I was too nervous to post my own work. No longer! It's safe to say that I've been a bit nervous about the whole writer/reader interaction thing. But in the end, my curiosity and my itchy fingers got the better of me. CURSE YOU ITCHY FINGERS! *shakes fist at no one in particular*...oh. Ahem. Anyway, I look forward to posting a variety of works in multiple genres, with an emphasis on movies and TV shows, but by no means excluding books... I happen to have a few good Lit. Fics up my sleeves right now...heh heh heh. Made you wonder. ;) Eventually they'll be up too._**

**_For now, I present to you-drumroll please...- a Santa Clause Fanfic! Boo yah!_**

**_Eh...*coughs*...right._**

**_I look forward to this. I'm also interested to find out who else still has the hots for Bernard. #oneDAMNfineelf, right ladies? ;) You know who you are._**

**_So: the story. It's pretty much a novella at this point, due to become novel any day. Word says I'm at 26k+right now but I'm posting in pieces to see the reaction I get. Set in 2013, with a bit of a time continuum so that Charlie, Lucy, and Buddy are closer to the ages of my OCs. Will be Bernard/OC, Charlie/OC (different OC), and slight Curtis/OC (another different OC). And YES, I dragged in religion. HEY...GET BACK HERE!_**

**_(After I drag YOU back in...) I'm a bit of a stickler for history, okay? *sighs* Confession made. And I've been dying to give the real back story on Santa for years now. So, no likey, no readey, okay? Certain characters will be Byzantine Orthodox, including 2 of 3 OCs. (WTF is Byzantine Orthodox, you ask? Look it up. Google is DYING to be your new best friend. ;)_**

**_However, this doesn't mean things won't get heated...rating is T. UPDATE AS OF 12/18/13, AND will remain T. No future upgrade to M rating :)  
_**

**_I think that just about covers things, so...let the show begin! And please leave a review. No, don't be MEAN. Like I said, I'm a newbie. Don't shoot me down before I get off the ground. (Have I made a rhyme?) But if you're nice, I'd love to hear from you. I don't really associate with people on the Naughty List. ;) Hope you enjoy the story._**

**_Also, I OBVIOUSLY don't own The Santa Clause, 1,2,or 3. C'mon, people! If I did, would I BE here?!_**

**_Rhetorically speaking._**

**_Oh, and pleasepleasepleasePLEASE follow me on Twitter! AnaontheFritz. I follow back ;)_**

**_All the best!_**

**_Ana, aka_**

**_étiquette-faux-pas_**

* * *

Ellington sat at her desk.

This was hardly unusual.

Ellington Connelly was seventeen years old, and was very often busy on her laptop, slaving away at her multiple novels. Having graduated from high school at the young if not adept age of sixteen, she was enjoyed doing what she was actually interested in—that is, writing —at a level that she found moderately challenging.

When she was sixteen, Ellington had graduated high school (with honors, of course; top of her class.) She had received many and multiple scholarship packages from Ivy League colleges; the ones from Bryn Mawr and Vassar had particularly interested her. All expenses paid, tuition, dorm, food; everything. And she had been very excited with her prospects.

Then Ellington's father had contracted an illness. At first, it seemed to all to be nothing more than a bad case of bladder stones. Painful, yes; but easily treatable. Ellington had a strange way of sometimes knowing certain things that she shouldn't have been able to. She never told anyone these hunches. Nobody knew things before hand; only fake magicians and psychics, phonies like that. Well, and saints. Ellington and her family were Orthodox Christians, an unaltered form of Byzantine Christianity that was practically unheard of in Hawaii, where they had moved to three years before from Washington State. A day didn't pass that Ellington didn't wish she were back in Seattle. Anyway, girls like her, however gifted, didn't read into the future. More than likely, they were just coincidences.

So when Ellington had a strange sense of foreboding about the cause of her father's illness, she ignored it. But she wasn't surprised when the surgery ran for six hours instead of two, and all of the other out-patient surgery cases that had gone in after her father had already gone home. Ellington had sat there in the empty waiting room with her mother and youngest sister, for another two hours. Finally, the surgeon came out, wearing a solemn expression that made it clear for once to Ellington just how horribly right she had been.

"I'm afraid it's much worse than we thought," he had said, wringing his mask in his hands. He wore a long surgical overcoat that Annise, Ellington's ten year old sister, had mentioned made him look like Big Bird from Sesame Street. They had laughed before, but there was nothing funny about it now.

Both girls sat, ridged and silent, while Dr. Calvin explained to their mother that her husband had a seriously invasive form of bladder cancer that would most likely continue to spread throughout the entirety of the bladder, eventually taking his life. "Radiation and Chemo Therapy are highly ineffective with this type of cancer," the surgeon had said. His shoulders were sagging, and he clearly felt as though this diagnosis were a personal failure to what he had called on more than one occasion, 'a perfect Little family.' "I can keep removing parts of the tumor, but it will continue to grow back, and eventually..." He sighed. "There will be nothing else we can do."

"How long do we have?" Their mother asked, in a broken voice. Josette Connelly was a strong yet kind woman with a stubborn streak that she put to use by fiercely protecting her family. Her own life was troubled by long illness of her own: childhood Diabetes and immune system weaknesses had dulled a portion of her beauty, but not her spirit. Here, she was on the edge of a collapse that Ellington could see she was fighting back. Ellington could always read her mother better than anyone else; most said she was the most like her mother, in looks and personality. Ellington had thought she had brown eyes until she was twelve because of this: she hadn't even once looked closely in the mirror to make sure. Only then had she realized that her eyes were blue: a bright, twinkling, mischievous blue. Then, she had seen the differences. Her mother's hair was a wavy chestnut brown; hers was a darker brown with a golden hue to it, and curly. Her mother had olive skin; hers was a lighter shade of neutral. The list went on and on.

Nowadays, Ellington's eyes weren't mischievous very often. You were more likely to see them looking around cynically. Misfortune had routinely beset her family, and Ellington found herself just waiting for the next upset to arrive. And here it was, just as usual. And, also as usual, Ellington didn't cry. Because that was the one way that  
Ellington was truly different from her mother: she hid her feelings.

Annise, on the other hand, was emotional, like their mother. In all other things she was her father's daughter. Blonde hair, green eyes. She had exceptionally big feet (size eight already) and was exceptionally tall (five foot since age nine.) Ellington, who was only five foot four and a half and wore a size six and a half or seven at most, felt oddly small next to her younger sister, though Annise was still smaller. Annise was as bubbly as Ellington was wary; Annise would talk and laugh with strangers, whereas Ellington would smile politely, chat only reservedly, and make an occasional joke that was usually lost on whoever she was talking to. She had a very dry sense of humor.

And so Annise sat in tears, with Ellington's arm around her. "Wi-will...he live until Christmas?" she asked tremblingly. Ellington's eyes smarted.

Dr. Calvin smiled a crooked, sad smile. "Yes. He'll be here for Christmas." And he patted their mother's hand. "I'm so sorry."

And Ellington thought, but did not say, "But not next Christmas."

* * *

Their father, whose name was Phillip, was in the hospital for three weeks before he came home. And then, things were very different from how they had been before.

For one thing, Phillip Connelly hadn't been sick a day in his life. For him, being diagnosed with cancer was an even harsher blow than it might have been, say, for someone who had been through chicken pox, or scarlet fever. He had been a contractor, building large and important looking houses for moderately rich people. But that had been in Seattle, almost ten years before.

By then, Josette's health required constant monitoring, which meant that a nurse was out of the question, because if during any routine shift change any information failed to be passed along, it could lead to Josette's untimely death. So Phillip had given up his excellent and rewarding career to stay home and care for Josette, who was his second wife. His first marriage, to a woman named Veronica, had been an unfortunate mistake of youth. But before the divorce, they had had one child: a daughter, named Dorothy.

Dorothy was the one good thing that came from those troubled years, he liked to think, and as such he thought the world of her. Custody battles raged long after he remarried, and even after Annise was born. It wasn't until he was forced to move their family to Hawaii (without Dorothy) that he threw in the towel—and hardly, even then. Phillip was and had always been desperate to have a good relationship with Dorothy, in spite of her mother's refusal to cooperate.

Because of this, Ellington and Annise had been put through the wringer, with Phillip being too exhausted from court to spend time with his other two daughters. Even now, being separated by two thousand miles only seemed to make things more miserable for the other girls.

Not that he didn't love them. But they just didn't get his best sometimes, because he gave his best to Dorothy, who didn't always appreciate it the way she should have.

At first, Phillip put much of his dwindling energy into the research and purchasing of natural 'cures' or 'treatments', in the hopes of ridding himself of the illness. Even affording the pills was difficult, since the family lived off of disability assistance for Josette. But a few remedies seemed to produce hopeful results, even according to Dr. Calvin, who was still assisting Phillip with his healthcare. For a while, most of that summer in fact, spirits were up.

Except for the nagging feeling in Ellington's stomach.

Then the pain started to return. By August, scans showed that the tumor was growing again. As the cancer took over in Phillip's body, he became less and less able to assist his wife in the way she needed him to. The hourly blood sugar checks, the administering of medicines, shots, everything became too much for a man who was too hosed up on codeine to stay awake for longer than five minutes. Only a close family member, who knew what went on with Josette's health, could do the job that Phillip was now incapable of.

Annise couldn't do it; she was far too young. And so Ellington turned down all seven of her scholarships and put off college altogether to care for her mother, as well as her father. Figuring she could make it up later.

After all, she was only seventeen.

And then came the fever. Phillip ran a temperature of one hundred and four continuously, unbroken by any medications they had at home. Back to the hospital he went.

This time, the outlook was even more grim. The tumor had taken up the entire bladder; he had also gotten blood poisoning. The on call doctor gave Phillip through the weekend to live, no longer.

And they all had to say goodbye.

Dr. Calvin had come in late that evening, and sat with the Connelly's in Phillip's hospital room. The surgeon was nearly speechless.

"C...can I do anything for you?" he asked Josette.

Josette looked away from Phillip's hand that she had been holding. "Do you...pray?' she asked carefully.

Dr. Calvin smiled. "I pray all the time."

Josette gave him a Connelly, sad smile. "Then please, pray for us."

And he did. Heading out of the ICU that night, he passed the girls out in the hall. Ellington was sitting with a dazed yet grim look on her face, while Annise leaned tiredly on her shoulder. They hadn't been home for days.

"Hello there."

Annise started, and looked up. "Oh...hi." Ellington gave a little wave.

"Can I do anything for you girls?" He smiled at them, as sadly as had their mother.

"No," said Ellington somewhat flatly. "But...thank you for asking." Ellington was having to face a future where she took on many of her father's responsibilities.

A future without college any time soon.

"Um...actually, yes." Annise pulled a letter from her pocket. "Would you mail this for me?" It was a letter to Santa Claus.

Dr. Calvin looked surprised for a moment, then gave the girls a strange smile. "You bet I will." And he took it from her. "Good night, then, ladies."

"Good night," called Annise, "and thank you!"

When he got to his car, Dr. Calvin looked at the letter in his hand, and shook his head.

Then, suddenly, he had an idea.

A great, wonderful, magic idea.

He took out his cell phone, and called his son.

It rang six or seven times before it picked up.

"Hi there, sport," he said. "I need a favor."

* * *

But favors sometimes take longer than one might prefer.

And so it was, that Dr. Calvin's son couldn't find the time to assist his father for a good month and a half. By then, the problems had only worsened, all around.

When Phillip's secondary infection dropped away over the next few days, Dr. Calvin was able to offer a surgical option: he could remove Phillip's bladder entirely, along with the tumor inside of it. With the cancer nearly eliminated, Phillip had a high chance of total recovery. So Phillip chose to have the surgery, despite the chance of his death on the table.

And Phillip survived.

The surgery was successful; the bladder was removed and the cancer all but gone. He remained in the hospital for weeks, recovering. Josette never left his side. The girls were sent home to take care of the farm until their father's return.

Three weeks later, Phillip and Josette returned home. It was a joyous day. And a few days later, at a follow up appointment with Dr. Calvin, all signs were good. Things were definitely looking up for the Connelly Family.

Except for the nagging feeling in Ellington's stomach, that is.

During the second week of September, Phillip began to throw up bile, and all of his medicine. He began to have pain in his stomach again. As usual, he refused to go to the hospital until the last possible moment, and when he finally allowed Josette to take him, it was bad.

Scans revealed that the cancer, which only two weeks earlier had been very, very Connelly at his appointment with Dr. Nelson, was now as large as it had been before surgery, growing on the wall of his abdominal cavity. It had also spread to his liver. Even Dr. Calvin, who had always been the one to find solutions when no one else would, had nothing else to offer.

After a week's stint in the hospital, Phillip Connelly came home once more, this time, to die.

The girls watched their father waste away before their eyes, unable to eat. And they tried to act as if all were normal.

But they could feel that normality, along with their father, was slipping away.

"Keep in touch with me," Dr. Calvin had said. "I want to know how he's doing, every day." He didn't need to say that he was also concerned about Josette—and mainly, the girls.

And it was at this point that he made the second call to his son.

"Sport, I know you've got a lot on your plate right now, but I really need your help."

And this time, his son came through and delivered.

Which was exactly to the point.

* * *

Bernard sat at his desk.

This was hardly unusual.

As Head Elf, he spent a lot of time at his desk, doing monotonous paperwork when he'd rather be doing something else.

But this time, it wasn't paperwork that had put him there. It was Santa.

That afternoon, Santa Claus had gotten a call from his father in Hawaii.

"Hi dad. What's up?"

It wasn't what was up. It was what was down.

After Santa had hung up the phone, he called in Bernard, along with the Number Two Elf, Curtis.

"Guys," he said, "We've got a problem."

"Uh oh." Curtis sighed. "If this is about Chet, I'll deal with it, I promise. I had no idea he knew where we kept the oat cakes, and if I had known he knew, I never would have left him without supervision."

"No, this isn't about Chet," Santa said.

"And if it's about the quotas being a bit short, I've already got it under control." Bernard scowled. "Apparently, some of the elves down in packaging decided to take a few 'unauthorized breaks'. It won't be happening again." He'd fired them, of course.

"No, this isn't about quotas!" Santa was getting exasperated. "Let me finish, will ya?"

The elves exchanged looks. "Sorry, sir," said Bernard.

"Thank you." Santa sat down behind his own desk. "Now, like I was saying, I just got off the phone with my dad. Apparently, he's got an end stage patient who has just gone home. Cancer."

"Oh," said Curtis quietly.

"Yeah." Santa sighed. "And the sad part is, the guy's got kids. Two daughters, who are lonely and sad. Not to mention frightened. The youngest wrote me a letter." He passed the letter across the desk.

"Really? But it's only August." Bernard picked it up, and held it low enough for Curtis to read as well.

_Dear Santa, _it read,

_I'm not sure if I should be writing to you, since technically I'm not allowed to believe in Santa Claus. I know that St. Nicholas is real. He visits my house every year on December 19th, and brings gifts for me and my sister. But as for you...I don't know. But I need some help._

_My daddy is dying, Santa. I'm scared. My sister Ellington is scared, but she doesn't say so. Ellington doesn't like to be afraid of anything. She's seventeen and really smart. She would be in college by now if Daddy wasn't sick all this time. She needs a friend, cause she doesn't really have any, besides me. Could you find her a really, really good friend?_

_My family needs a miracle. I'm asking God for one already but I thought it would be good to ask for all the help I can get. Santa, if you can do anything, please, let my Daddy live. I won't ask for anything else for Christmas, I promise._

_Thank you._

_Sincerely,_

_Annise Connelly_

Curtis wiped away a stray tear that had formed in his left eye. "That's horrible!" he cried. "We have to help her!"

"And I mean to," said Santa ambiguously.

"How do you mean?" asked Bernard, almost squeakily. His voice sometimes did that weird teenage thing human boys' did, even though he was nearly seventeen hundred years old. Physically, he was frozen at that age, and his vocal cords knew no different. Not that it didn't bother him. Immensely.

Santa reached into a drawer and pulled out his copy of The Abbreviated Santa Handbook. He flipped it open about halfway, then read a passage aloud. "According to rule nine thousand, two hundred and seventy four, 'Every 550 years, an emissary must be chosen from among human children to visit the North Pole, be they lonely or without cheer.'"

"Oh, Good grief!" Bernard rubbed his face. "Not the Emissary Clause."

"What about it?" Santa asked. Bernard gave no reply.

"Curtis, what are the rules for this clause? You've got the whole book; you should know." Santa was giving Bernard an odd look.

"Already on it, boss." Curtis was turning pages rapid fire. "Ah here it is: 'Rule 9,274, The Emissary Clause. Every 550 years, an emissary must be chosen from among humans to visit the North Pole, be they lonely or without cheer. All emissaries must be under the age of eighteen. All emissaries must be female. This practice must be observed every 550th year, with the exception of postponements. Such postponements may be made only by Santa or...the Head Elf.'" Curtis looked up, appalled. "You told me only Santa could postpone! It was you, all along! You put it off, without telling me!"

Bernard sputtered, but ultimately said nothing.

Santa frowned. " I checked the record. Apparently, you've been putting it off for nearly fourteen hundred years, Bernard! Why?"

"There just wasn't time!" said Bernard, exasperated. He knew that one day this would come up, but it still seemed too soon, even after fourteen hundred years. "Those years were particularly complicated, and the last thing we needed was a strange little girl wandering around the Pole!"

"So you...postponed it," said Santa. "And, when, may I ask, were you planning to actually fulfill this Clause?"

Bernard raised his chin.

"You weren't!" Curtis exploded. "You were going to keep putting it off, until the very end!"

"So what!" Bernard threw up his hands. "So I postponed the Emissary Clause, and didn't tell you about it. What's the big deal, anyway? Nobody even cared until now!"

"I'll tell you what the big deal is!" Curtis was livid. "Do you realize what the purpose of this Clause is, Bernard? It's to restore the True Spirit of Christmas! Who knows what horrible major events in human history could have been avoided if the Clause had been enforced, like it should have been!"

"Like what?" Bernard pressed, crossing his arms stubbornly.

"I-I don't know, let's see, shall we?" Curtis began ticking off years on his fingers. "Year 894 could have stopped the Schism of the Christian Churches, East and West!"

Bernard scoffed at this. "Oh, like you care, Curtis. You're Catholic!"

With a frustrated look, Curtis said, "Well, being Byzantine Orthodox doesn't seem to be doing any favors to your personality, now does it?"

Another scowl from Bernard.

"Year 1444 could have finished the Dark Ages in Western Europe, not to mention the fall of Constantinople," said Curtis, "And 1994...that was the year Santa took over! There! Have I made my point, or have I made my point?" And he slammed the Handbook shut, sitting primly in a chair before Santa's desk.

"That's rich, coming from the elf who conveniently overlooked the Mrs. Clause," Bernard snapped.

Santa eyed the tension between his top elves warily. "Regardless of what may have happened to history or not," he said, "postponing the Clause indefinitely was wrong, Bernard. And now that I'm Santa, it's my job to clean up the mess. Great." He leaned back in his chair and sighed. "So here's what we're going to do. It will take me a while to convene a Council of Legendary Figures to deal with the issue of her dad's health; in the meantime, I'm going to solve this whole problem with the Emissary Clause, by bringing up the man's daughters, what's their names, Natalie and Cinnamon?"

"Ellington and Annise," said Bernard, skimming the letter. "But sir, I don't see how this will solve our problem. There are only two sisters."

Santa gave a knowing grin. "Nope. There's a third sister..." he picked up a different sheet of paper, "...Dorothy Agev-Connelly, in Tacoma, Washington. We'll bring her too. No doubt she's affected by her father's eminent death, and she'll bring the Clause right up to date."

"I don't see why we need to get into all of this right now, what with the..." Bernard pointed to a digital map on the wall. Not surprisingly, it was a map of The North Pole. But the boundaries of the Pole had turned a menacing shade of black. An Unknown lurked on the horizon.

"You and I both know that we have no idea what to do about that yet," said Santa quietly. He sighed. "The way I look at it, the more loose ends we finish off, the more likely we are to make it go away."

"But we don't even know what it is!" Bernard threw up his hands. "It's been a month, and we've made no progress! This is exactly the kind of reason I put off the Clause in the first place!"

"A fact that I kept in mind when I chose your punishment, Bernard." Santa snatched the letter back from his Head Elf. "It says here that Ms. Ellington Connelly, age seventeen, has need of a friend. A good, true friend. You are going to be that friend, Bernard, when the girls arrive. I'm putting you in charge of showing her around the Pole."

"B-but I have work to do!" Bernard cried. "In case you've forgotten, I manage this place! I've got too much to do already, without having to drag some teenage girl around sightseeing!"

"It's a punishment, remember?" said Santa, a bit coldly. "and a pretty easy one too, I might add. I'm really letting you off the hook here. As far as management goes, you'll just have to find a way to balance work and play, without putting off the girl." He cleared his throat. "You're also in charge of overseeing that each girl is having a good time with their chaperone. You are Ellington's chaperone, and the others..." He grabbed for another page. "How do you feel, Curtis, about playing chaperone to our letter writer? Ten year old Annise?"

Curtis shifted in his seat. "Well, I'm...not very good around girls, but...I'll try. After all, asking for her father's health for Christmas is a very noble thing to do." His voice had gradually grown stronger and more excited. "Yeah, sure I'll do it. She seems like a nice little girl."

Santa smiled. "Good then. Now I've just got to find a chaperone for Dorothy, and we're set. In the meantime, I suggest you two start getting ready for their arrival. They'll need rooms, for sure; and clothes. It's much colder up here than in Hawaii. Get Abby to help you with that. Carol has already agreed to help with getting them settled in, so they should have no trouble adjusting to the idea of living in the North Pole for a while." And he rose as if to leave the room.

"But sir," asked Bernard, grabbing Santa by the arm, "how long are they staying?"

Santa gave Bernard a sideways look. "You spent so much time avoiding the Clause that I thought you'd know, Number One. They're here until Christmas."

"When do they arrive?" Curtis wondered.

"Oh, in less than twelve hours," said Santa casually, on his way out. "Better hurry up and adjust, Bernard. You don't have two days to grouch around like you normally do."

After Santa had left, Curtis gave him a mischievous grin.

"Oh shut up," Bernard snapped, but Curtis kept smiling.

"Come on, Bernard, stop moping. You may have twice as much work now, but so do I! He gave us both chaperone duty. Can't you see? It wasn't really a punishment at all!"

Considering this, Bernard felt slightly better. That is, until Curtis said,

"And another bonus: since you categorically refuse to marry, Santa assigned you a girlfriend!"

"Shut UP! Shut up shut up shut up!" And Bernard chased him out of the room in a rage.

* * *

**_Okay, so the beginning was a bit depressing, but you've gotta have backstory, right? And look-Bernard is back! Yeah baby! Whose getting excited!?_**

**_*crickets*_**

**_Wow, tough crowd._**

**_Be better than my imaginary readers. Leave me a comment._**

**_With Cheer,_**

**_Ana_**

**_P.S. NO, I'm NOT a cheerleader. GOD. Jump to conclusions much? HOLIDAY cheer, people. It's already November. Time to get festive, like, yesterday._**

**_Oh, and picture of Ellington up tomorrow evening. ;)_**

**_Ciao!_**


	2. Arrivals and Introductionsof sorts

**Hey ho! Soooo sorry I wasn't able to update… my Galaxy Nexus stopped tethering, so no wifi for me till now. Gasp! I know. I'm still not sure how I survived. Anyhoo, here's the next installment of the Emissary Clause. And thank you SO much, to those who reviewed and followed. I know that this is a pretty small category so even a few followers counts exponentially, right? Plus I'm just getting started.**

**Editing is mine…*cringe* Don't have my head on a spike for it! I need my head! To write!**

**Did you see the Cover art? Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present to you...Ellington Connelly!**

**Oh and THE SANTA CLAUSE 1, 2 & 3: If I owned it would I be here?**

**(Insert typical disclaimers here.)**

**Well, here goes! Let me know what you think.**

**Cheers,**

etiquette-faux-pas

* * *

2. Arrivals and Introductions...of sorts

It was a surprisingly short ride to the North Pole. Once they had ascended over the cloud cover (where the temperature dipped considerably, much to Kyle's relief), they were really flying.

The entire trip seemed to only take about forty five minutes. Then the clouds thinned out, and Ellington could just see, in the light of the moon, the ice and cold looking ocean. And then it started to snow. Ellington, in her thin, brown lace shirt, was surprised that she wasn't freezing, and figured it was by some magic of the elves. The snow felt soft, and kind of tickled; but it blew off of her so quickly that she hardly had time to feel anything at all.

Soon, Mackenzie warned her that they would be descending soon. She pressed a glowing red and white button on her wristlet. Far below, a red and white glow responded. Mackenzie swerved and dipped, pulling Ellington down with her. Kyle and Annise weren't far behind.

When they had nearly reached the surface, Mackenzie reversed her jet pack. Hovering several yards above the ice, Ellington could now see that the red and white glowing object was the North Pole itself, easily recognizable from the movie.

"It's real!" cried Annise in delight.

Kyle smiled. "You haven't seen anything yet."

"Yeah, like I haven't heard _that _line before." Annise giggled.

"What now?" Ellington asked, trying to ignore how Annise's comment faintly resembled a dirty joke. She shoved it out of her mind. Mackenzie just pointed downward, where the ice was breaking open, floating downwards in the shape of a circle. Warmth floated up from below the ice. And as the circle disappeared, they went down after it.

Into the North Pole.

* * *

It had taken every minute of twelve hours to prepare for the girls' arrival. Bernard couldn't remember sitting down even once. But now, the rooms were prepared, the clothes sewn, the elves briefed on _why_ they were having three human girls come to stay in the Workshop for over four months.

"The Emissary Clause is _very_ important," Bernard had said, wearing his normal 'I'm giving an upbeat speech' face, "because it ensures that the True Spirit of Christmas endures in the world. Today, we have a chance to share what Christmas really means; so let's give the girls a warm welcome during their stay, okay? Okay, thank you everybody. Back to work, please."

It really ticked him off how Santa and Curtis had played innocent about the Clause. They _knew_ why he had put off it off—and _no,_ it wasn't because he was _busy. _ St. Nicholas had used that Clause to trap him, force Bernard's hand. No way was Bernard going to uphold such a devious plot. He may have been a saint, but Nicholas had had a mischievous streak, as well as a stubborn one. It had been why they worked so well together...and why they had clashed. Bernard wasn't about to let that stupid Clause control him. He was forced to let it direct him far more than he liked already, under orders from Scott. He wasn't about to let it have mental sway as well.

And that girlfriend joke Curtis had made? Grrr…. He'd been hung by his suspenders from hooks on an assembly line for that one.

Now, the select few who had been chosen to welcome the girls at their arrival were waiting expectantly in the Sleigh room. Santa was there, of course, and Mrs. Claus; and Abby, the adorable elf who was perpetually dressed like a princess. Santa had asked Charlie to stand in as Dorothy's chaperone, since he knew as much about the Pole as anybody could. Charlie had agreed to this reluctantly, as his friend and love interest Danielle had moved away to the west coast. And of course, Bernard and Curtis were there as well.

"I hope she's not ugly," said Charlie. "That would be just my luck."

Mrs. Claus frowned disapprovingly. "Oh, come on, Charlie. Don't be like that. Don't create preclusion before it shows up."

Charlie looked confused, and annoyed. "What the heck is preclusion?"

"Are you _sure_ Charlie was the best choice?" Bernard asked Santa privately. "I know he's your son, but he seems a little down in spirits himself."

"My hope is that they'll help each other," Santa admitted, then gave Bernard a sideways look. "Kind of how I feel about choosing you, ya know?"

Bernard scowled and shook his head.

Curtis was standing beside him, holding a device that tracked the current location of both E. L. F. S teams. "Team One is approaching fast," he cried. "They'll be here in less than three minutes!"

"Okay everybody, places!" Santa called, and everyone formed a half circle, as planned. Abby was holding three Connelly packages in her hands, smiling excitedly.

"Are you ready?" Bernard asked Curtis, glancing at him superiorly out of one eye as he stood rigid, hands behind his back.

Curtis looked up at him as if unimpressed. "Are _you?_ I haven't seen you look this nervous since you got that really bad haircut three hundred and fifty years ago."

"I _told _you never to bring that up again." Bernard raised his chin in irritation. "If you say stuff like that to make me look stupid in front of the girls, I _will_ have my revenge, Number _Two."_

"Okay." Curtis shrugged as if it couldn't possibly matter, and tucked the _Santa Handbook_ more tightly under his arm. "Whatever you say, Bernard."

Boy, was _that_ irritating.

* * *

As they descended through the ice, the first thing Ellington noticed was how warm it was. She had expected it to be colder. But then she saw why: they were lowering into a building, not outdoors. She could see a group of people waiting on the ground, two rather large and dressed mainly in red.

"Who do you think is waiting for us?" Annise asked, from just above her.

"I don't know," said Ellington, which was true. She didn't _know_ for sure; but she did have certain ideas of who would be there.

And her heart skipped in excitement when she saw she was right, yet again.

Mackenzie landed them directly in front of the half circle of onlookers.

"Great job, guys," said Santa, clapping his hands in admiration. Mackenzie and Kyle, who had just landed with Annise behind them, took a bow.

"Thanks, Santa," said Mackenzie. She stepped forward. "Please allow me to introduce—"

"Annise Connelly," said Ellington, pushing her little sister forward in hopes of attracting attention away from herself. She felt rather self-conscious after a flight in the open. Who knew how awful she looked? "She's the one who wrote to you, sir."

Actually, both she and Annise looked as lovely as they had when they left the house—which seemed a remarkable contradiction to their open air flight. Charlie nudged Bernard, saying, "So much for ugly, after all."

Annise stepped shyly forward, hand extended. "Hello, sir. It's...very nice to meet you."

Santa smiled at her. "It's _very_ nice to meet you too, Annise." He took her hand in both of his. "And I promise," he said seriously, "we're doing all we can to help your father."

Annise nodded sadly. "Thank you. Thank you _very _much."

Charlie walked up to Ellington with his hands in his pockets, and a slight swagger. "Why, hello," he said, in what was meant to be a cool kid tone. "You must be Dorothy."

Ellington raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "If you think _I'm _stupid enough to find you attractive after that, you've a hard lesson to learn." She eyed him up and down, hands on her hips. "And you'd really better hope you're not my chaperone."

Charlie scowled. Bernard tried to hide his smirk, but Ellington caught it. She gave him a small, sideways smile.

"This is your chaperone, Curtis," Santa was telling Annise. "He's here to help show you around the Pole, and answer any questions you may have, okay?"

"Okay." Annise shook hands with an awkwardly blushing Curtis.

"H-hi there," Curtis stuttered, scowling when Bernard gave him a smug look. Then he pulled himself together. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Annise."

Now it was Ellington's turn to smirk. That is, until Annise turned and said, a bit crankily,

"You were right, Ellington, okay? The shirt does look like Curtis'." It did. Eerily so. Just minus the bunny buttons.

Charlie stepped back, relieved. "Well, at least you're not Dorothy after all."

"And why's that, Casanova?" Ellington crossed her arms in mock surprise.

"Who did you say you were?" Bernard asked, stepping around the scowling Charlie.

"Actually, I didn't say. Annise did," Ellington corrected. "But no, I'm not Dorothy...thank _God._ I would never want to be so blonde. _Ever."_ She sighed, drew herself up and tossed her head, shaking her dark curls. "I'm her older sister. _Oldest _sister. I'm Ellington Connelly."

There was a challenge in her eyes, as if waiting for Bernard to say something stupid.

"Then I guess you've been paired with the only chaperone who can put you back in check, Smart aleck."

"Ooh, was that a _rhyme?_ How witty."

Bernard frowned. This wasn't starting out very well.

With a sigh, Ellington said, "Don't worry; I'm not always like this. Mr. _Swag_ over here just put me in a bad mood." She glowered at Charlie.

"I'm Bernard," said Bernard with an acknowledging nod. He returned Ellington's steady gaze without flinching.

"I know." The corners of Ellington's mouth jerked upwards. "I've seen _The Santa Clause_." She cocked her head. "Wait a minute... I thought you retired or something! Why weren't you in the third _Santa Clause_ movie?"

Bernard cleared his throat. "It's...a long story," he said, somewhat crossly.

Ellington crossed her arms. "Well, I'm all ears."

A sigh. "I'll...tell you some other time."

"Hi there!" said Abby, trying to stop the two from having some kind of an argument on their first introduction. "Then you must know I'm Abby. Here." She handed one of the boxes to Annise, and one to Ellington. "It's a bit colder here than what you two are used to, so these should help."

Ellington tore off the emerald colored wrapping paper to reveal a silver and gold gilded box, embossed with leaves. "What's this?"

"It's a virtual closet," Abby said. Annise had unwrapped her own blue wrapped box to find a similar box, all gold. "Open it, and your clothes will magically be changed into the perfect outfit for your surroundings. "

It's every girl's dream," said Mrs. Claus with a smile. She took Ellington's hand and shook it.

"Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Claus," said Ellington, so beautifully polite and sincere that everyone was surprised.

"Please, just call me Carol," said Mrs. Claus—that is, Carol. "And welcome to the Pole. I'll be helping you girls adjust to life here. Are you excited?" she asked Annise.

"Oh of course!" cried Annise, very enthusiastically. "But, uh...will we end up dressed like you guys?" Ellington cringed.

Abby just laughed. "It depends. The box will match your mood and personality, so if you're feeling elvish, you just might. But you might end up surprising everyone, with what you're really made of."

"The clothes will just...appear?" said Ellington slowly. "So you're saying...we're safe to change here?" she pointed to the floor. "_Right _here?"

"Well, yes. But if you'd like some privacy, we could..." Abby turned as if to go, the others mimicking.

"Oh no! It's fine," Ellington said quickly. "I just wanted to make sure there wouldn't be any..._gaps,_ between outfits or anything of that sort."

Abby reddened. "Oh no no! I wouldn't have given them to you here if there were, silly!"

"Right. My mistake," said Ellington, blushing herself. "Well, here goes then!" She looked to Annise. "On three?"

"One," said Annise.

"Two, three!" said Ellington, and both girls vanished behind clouds of smoke. Annise's was light purple, like lilacs, but Ellington's was the dark crimson of a blood red rose.

The crowd watching them exchanged looks. How utterly different were the two sisters.

And they saw that when rays of light shone out of Annise's cloud, bright golden sparks shot out of Ellington's, cutting through the red like satin. Both were beautiful; but in different ways. Annise was sweet, and lighthearted, while Ellington...well, no one quite knew what to think about Ellington.

Then Annise appeared out of the lilac smoke, hair falling in long blonde waves around her shoulders. She was wearing a short, lilac colored coat over a light blue satin dress. "Oh!' she gasped, looking down at her sparkly silver shoes. "They're like Dorothy's, from the Wizard of Oz!"

Mrs. Clause frowned. "Weren't Dorothy's shoes red? Ruby slippers?"

"Only in the movie. In the books, Dorothy Gale received a pair of _silver_ slippers from Glinda the Good, the same pair that later flew her home. Yes, I said _flew._ Dorothy later lost them while flying over a desert," said a voice.

It was Ellington, of course.

She had emerged from her own smoke cloud, and her outfit could not have been more different from Annise's. She wore a dark green velvet A-line skirt with a thin black belt, a white blouse with a folded V-neck collar, inset with lace, and a long, knee length crimson red pea coat, with black buttons. A pair of almost knee high black boots were on her feet, and her jade pendant hung outside of her blouse. It's bright green hue seemed to glow in contrast with the crimson of the coat. And she wore makeup: her eyelashes had been blackened, lips tinted a deep red, skin paled. Her hair was still up, but now in some sort of elaborate twist, with curls hanging down around her face and neck. The effect, she discovered, looking across the room to a full length mirror mounted on the wall, was quite stunning.

"What?" Everyone was staring at her, including Bernard, which, for some odd reason, made her blush furiously. She dug her hands deep into the pockets of her coat in agitation and looked at the floor. Somehow, being pretty made her feel incredibly awkward.

"Nothing," said Bernard, and the others all muttered in agreement, that it was nothing, nothing at all.

"You just...look lovely, dear," said Carol, reaching over to brush aside a stray curl from Ellington's eyes. "Why don't we go to your rooms now, and get you two set up?" Ellington looked up, her light blue eyes shining gratefully.

"What about Dorothy?" asked Charlie. "I thought she was coming tonight too." He even seemed a bit disappointed, despite his former skepticism.

Curtis checked his Tracker, but before he could say anything, Ellington said, "Oh, she wasn't at her mom's house. Dottie bounces around between her grandma's, her mom's and her brother's dad's houses. It's taking them a while to find her."

Curtis looked up surprised. "Yes, actually. Flight Squad Two just sent a message with those very details." His brow furrowed. "Hey, but how did you..."

"Don't ask," Ellington said abruptly, holding up a hand, "because I can't tell you. I just... had a feeling, that's all." She shrugged. "Now, can we please get settled in?"

She really didn't want to talk about it.

**Well, there you have it! Bernard ****_didn't_**** just let the Clause slip his mind…he ****_avoided _****it. For shame!**

**Sorry if I was overly descriptive with the clothes, but I personally like it when authors do that. Makes it easier to imagine correctly. Or something :) And for those who went *gag* girly crap, well, sorry. Girls will be girls. ;)**

**What do you think of the girls' personalities? Sorry if this chapter or the last is scattered…been having some…family health issues of late, and my writing hasn't been on par. It may be like this up to a certain point in the story. Apologies. Hope you can still find it enjoyable.**

**And please please please! Feedback! Reviews, as you may know, are author candy. And I loooove sweets.**

**All the Best!**

**etiquette-faux-pas**


	3. Insults, Embarrassments, and

**On another, more dismal note: AUGH! (Peanuts style.) People! So apparently, the last chapter either completely ****_sucked_**** and nobody had the guts to tell me, or…well, actually that's all I've really got right now. Seriously?! Was it ****_that_**** bad?**

***Crickets***

**O.O Damn it. Well, I hope this chapter is a bit better. Maybe even REVIEW worthy! I dunno. Perhaps I'm overly hopeful. Anyhoo, see you on the other side!**

**All the Best, **

**Ana**

**P.S. Oh, and I threw in a surprise that may be gratifying to the other Fanfic authors out there…*sigh* I couldn't help myself. It gave Ellington something to be really embarrassed about…****_if _****Bernard finds out. I mean, wouldn't you be mortified, if you were her?**

**That's what I thought.**

**Viva la Fanfic!**

**P.P.S I'm not belittling anyone's work here. Put the guns away! *cowers and runs away***

* * *

3. Insults, Embarrassments, and Eavesdropping

The girls' rooms were beautiful, as they were as highly and impeccably decorated as the rest of the Workshop. But it took some talking between Annise and Ellington before the younger girl would agree to the idea of sleeping in separate rooms. Not that they hadn't had separate bedrooms before; but in a strange new place, both girls were a little uneasy at the idea of Annise on her own.

Abby and Carol assured the girls that this was the North Pole, not Brooklyn, and no harm could possibly come to Annise when Ellington was on one side, and, soon, Dottie on the other.

After the girls had been convinced, Carol sent Abby for some cocoa and helped the girls get acquainted with how the rooms were laid out. Each had their own bathroom, with shower and bathtub, and their own walk-in closets, which, when the gilded boxes were placed inside, had clothes hung up in rows upon rows, with shoes still in boxes and paper.

"This...is..._amazing,_" said Ellington, who had never had so many beautiful clothes all to herself in her life, or such a lovely room. Ellington's room was papered in dark green, and trimmed in dark wood. There were stained glass windows set in deep hues of red, green, blue and purple. And there was a stone balcony, overlooking the whole town of...

"What is the town called?" Ellington asked, looking out over the twinkling lights. The sky was beginning to glow in the east. "I've seen it called Christmasjunction, Elfton, Elfville, you name it. What's its real name?"

Carol laughed out loud. "Where in the world did you hear that? Christmasjunction?" And she laughed again.

Ellington laughed a little too, realizing how odd it really did sound. "On the web. People write this stuff called _Fanfiction. _ There are whole web pages devoted to fan written stories about _The Santa Clause _movies. Didn't you know?"

"Well, I'm sure the elves do," said Carol, sitting on Ellington's bed. "They keep track of all kinds of developments in the human world. Social media has been a big concern of late; so much said so quickly, it's hard to keep up. But no, I've never heard of fanfiction. Do you write any?"

"Oh no." Ellington snorted. "Anyway, it's mostly it's a bunch of girls going gaga over..."

"Over what?"

Ellington sighed, and tossed her head as if it didn't really matter. "Oh you know, various good looking characters in said movies."

"Who, Scott?" Obviously, Mrs. Claus was a little biased.

"No, not exactly..." Ellington trailed off, grateful when Annise popped in the room.

"Can you believe it's almost morning here? We had hardly gone to bed at home! I saw a bunch of flying reindeer out of my window, too! It was awesome!"

Carol sat down on the bed, patting for Annise to sit next to her. "Yes, well, the reindeer training team usually gets started pretty early in the morning, as do most of the elves. All of Elfsburg will be bustling within the next half hour." She gave Ellington a meaningful look.

"Elfsburg?" Ellington laughed.

"Uh huh. You see, the Pole is situated on top of an enormous iceberg, so I guess you could call it a pun, if you like. I think Bernard had something to do with it."

"I see." Ellington traced the wood of the windowsill thoughtfully. "Carol, why is Bernard my chaperone? I thought that he would be too busy to have time to show me around...although he probably sees it as _babysitting_." She scowled.

Carol decided to follow her gut feeling and not tell the girl of Bernard's punishment...or of his involvement with the Clause. Instead, she merely shrugged and said, "I'm really not sure. Scott didn't tell me. But you could ask Bernard."

Carol wasn't the only one not sharing her thoughts. Ellington wasn't about to share that she was one of those Fanfiction writers herself.

She just hoped that no one at the Pole would delve too deeply into her browser history. They would find the stories she'd written, and Ellington didn't think she could ever live down having written a romance about Bernard. Not here.

Cringe.

* * *

Carol took Annise to meet with Curtis, and offered to take Ellington to Bernard as well. But Ellington declined, preferring to wander about a bit on her own before being subjected to Bernard's endless grouching. Stepping out of the workshop, she tried to blend in, pulling her coat warmly around herself to keep out the chill. A few of the elves stopped and smiled at her, and Ellington smiled back, despite how out of her element she felt. The atmosphere was welcoming. Ellington figured that that was a part of the Christmas spirit that permeated the entire town. But somehow, something felt…off. She attributed it to her fluttery stomach and pushed the thought from her mind.

Elfsburg was charming, to say the least; but it was difficult to tell where the Workshop ended and the town began, there were so many out buildings. Though she first thought that giving herself a tour would be virtually impossible, Ellington found that as most buildings were labeled, she could easily tell what was what. And, of course, there were many street signs that directed her in every direction possible.

So Ellington was occupied for a good two and a half hours, enjoying the decorations and ornate architecture of the town. Each building seemed to have been designed with Christmas in mind—which, Ellington realized, had to be true. She noticed that, among many of the more common festive motifs, they relied heavily on swirls and muted colors. Ellington, who had a fondness for intricate design, was delighted to find that almost everything, for the streetlamps to the paving stones, had a special pattern or signature embossed onto their surfaces.

It wasn't snowing; but the ground was dusted with snow all the same. Either by merit of the cold or some kind of magic, it stayed dusty and didn't stick to the bottom of Ellington's boots like snow usually had in Washington. She walked with her hands in her pockets, until she suddenly realized that her fingers were brushing leather in her right pocket. To her surprise, it was a pair of lady-like flannel lined black leather gloves. She slipped them on gratefully, flexing her fingers thoughtfully. They, like the rest of her clothes, fit perfectly—and that was something to marvel at, as Ellington had surprisingly small thumbs due to an inherited gene mutation. They were child sized thumbs, and her sisters often teased her about them. Ellington loved them as a matter of pride, and simply out of stubbornness.

She stopped on a corner to look across at some young girl elves playing together in the snow. Not for the first time since her arrival, Ellington thought about her sisters. Annise, she knew, was her best friend. Ellington hadn't any friends her own age, and liked it like that; she was a particular type and didn't get along with just anybody. Many even thought her stuck up. Ellington had often wondered if they were right. The fact was most people bored her. She didn't really have much in common with people her own age. This was just one of the numerous downsides to being 'mature beyond her years'.

But Dottie, far away on the mainland, lived a life entirely different from Ellington's. The two sisters weren't close like they used to be. There were things that Dottie had done...things that Ellington couldn't understand. Dottie had been raised differently than her sisters, in a different world. And she had made choices that Ellington never could have made.

Dottie, despite being a full year younger than Ellington, had had more relationships by far...and not the good kind. That July, Dottie had 'hooked up' with a guy she liked, who turned right around and dumped her. Realizing hindsight that she had been played, Dottie decided it was the stupidest thing she'd ever done, and vowed never to do it again.

Then, she did the _same thing,_ three more times.

_In the same month._

_Leave it to my idiot blonde sister, _Ellington had thought, stomach clenching in anger at her sister's recklessness. Maybe she and Dottie didn't always get along, but Ellington loved the 'idiot blonde', and was as fiercely protective of her as she was Annise. Their family's past had ensured that, but...

As soon as she thought that, Ellington's body went rigid. She couldn't think about the past. _Her _past. Her _family's_ past. The unspeakable trials they had been through, as a family, while Dottie had lived in her own little happy world at her mom's…

Even before the cancer.

There was a _reason_ her family had left Washington.

She was drawn out of her thoughts by the sound of someone clearing their throat.

"Ahem."

With a jump, Ellington turned to see Bernard, dressed warmly in the scarf and jacket she had seen in the first movie. He was holding two steaming drinks. "Took me a while to find you."

"Oh." Her voice flat, Ellington struggled to bring her head back from the dark place it had been going.

"Um…are you okay?" Bernard frowned. "You look…odd."

"Oh, _thanks._" said Ellington, summoning up her sarcasm . "I'm fine, actually. I was just thinking. About…the weather," she finished lamely, mentally face palming.

Bernard, hardly fooled, decided to play along. He handed her a drink. "It must be pretty cold out here compared to what you're used to," Bernard commented as Ellington pulled the lid off her beverage. "Hawaii, I mean. Bit of a climate shock, I'd think."

"Yeah—hey. This is cocoa." She sipped it. "_Good_ cocoa, geez. Wait." She froze. "Did Judy make this?"

Bernard _almost_ smiled. Not quite. "Yes. She… sends her regards." He still wasn't pleased about his situation, regardless of how pretty his charge was. He wasn't being cold, just...reserved. Luckily, Ellington knew how to reciprocate.

"Wow. I thought she retired," Ellington said distantly. Another thing she had read online.

Bernard frowned. "I don't know why you think that everyone retired just because they weren't in on or the movies."

"Well, there's Abby…"

"Abby is Judy's _intern_," said Bernard. "Judy is still very much around." Ellington knew that the irritation was personal, as well. She had assumed he was gone after the second movie. Clearly, this bothered him.

"I see. Well, something tells me that she wouldn't have put it like that, but when I see her, I'll make sure I thank her myself. Looks like I can't trust you to deliver messages accurately." She grasped the drink more tightly and began walking away, looking into some shop windows.

"Ooh, touché," said Bernard sarcastically. He followed after her as she walked on. She was pretending to look at things in the shop windows. "And where do you think you're going? I was sent to come get you."

"Joy," Ellington said, sighing deeply and turning on her heel. She set a hand on her hip. "Are they trying to torture us both? Because I _know_ you don't want to do this, and I don't want to be griped at by a crabby, overworked elf that'd rather be doing pretty much _anything_ except dragging me around. So what do you say we just agree to ignore the whole emissary/chaperone thing? You leave me alone, I leave you alone. The perfect solution." And she turned away yet again.

Rolling his eyes, Bernard lunged and grabbed the arm of Ellington's coat. "It's not that simple," he said, irritated, "and I'm not _that_ cold, good grief." He sighed, and looked away. "Look, you're right, okay? _Obviously_ this isn't what I would have picked to spend my time doing."

"I already knew I was right. I didn't need you to tell me; it was a _statement._" Ellington snorted. "But thanks_ again._ Wow, really batting a thousand today, aren't ya, champ?"

Another eye roll. "Yeah, well, fine. My point is, I don't have the authority to decide if we get to part ways or not. Only Santa does; and he's dead set on this 'emissary/chaperone thing', as you so eloquently put it. So for right now, you and me? Well, like it or not, we're stuck together. We may as well come to terms with it and at _least_ get along."

Ellington narrowed her eyes, assessing him. "And what if we don't?" She felt exceptionally resistant all of a sudden.

But upon seeing Bernard's disappointed expression, she immediately reneged. "Uh! Fine."

"_Thanks,_" Bernard replied. Ellington was surprised how that actually stung, having him fling her own comment back in her face. Normally, that didn't even faze her. The embarrassment gave her something to think about during the awkwardly silent walk that followed.

Sometime later, walking down a seemingly endless street, Ellington shored up her reserve and decided to apologize. Rude though she often was, she could never hold out long before feeling plain old awful about what she said. But this time, apologizing seemed to be even harder than usual. All she could manage was, "I'm…sorry. For the way I acted back there."

Bernard looked at her out of the corners of his eyes. Ellington's gaze was fixed on her drink. He decided to answer, instead of pretending not to have heard like he normally would. "Yeah, well neither was I."

She sipped her cocoa thoughtfully which was harder than you'd think, considering the pace at which they were walking. "It's not that I dislike you, mind. I just resent being…resented."

Bernard shrugged…or maybe he was readjusting his coat. "That's natural. I _personally_ resent having my work belittled by being given _another_ job, and then treated as if balancing both will be _easy."_

Based on the direction of the street Bernard chose Ellington guessed that they were headed back to the workshop. With a small snort, Ellington said softly, "Yeah, I bet. I know I would."

For some reason, this actually made Bernard feel…better.

"Unbelievable," he muttered.

Ellington looked up, alarmed. "I'm sorry. I wasn't being sarcastic…"

"No, not you. Just…it's nothing." He couldn't believe how quickly this girl made him change his mind. First he had been annoyed by her, then insulted by her, and now, _consoled_ by her? This was beyond abnormal. This was _weird. _

_She_…was weird?

That made sense.

Bernard tried again. "What I'm trying to say is, I wasn't resenting _you._ I was just resenting the _situation._ Any other time, I think we'd get along better."

"'Any other time'?" Ellington asked. She found that an intriguing idea.

"Sure. I mean, I've got the whole Christmas shebang, and you…well, everything with your father…" He faltered, unsure how to avoid being insensitive again.

"Ah. My father," Ellington said flatly, and then grimaced. "No. My father isn't the worst of my troubles. The fact that I'm going to be living next door to Dottie for the foreseeable future… that's my real problem."

* * *

Meanwhile, Curtis was busy showing Annise what he did best…that is, flub up.

"And this is the pantograph room, where we replicate toys!" They marched into the room, where other elves were bustling around doing various tasks that Annise found hard to pay attention to with Curtis' incessant chatter. "And this is the pantograph itself," he said cheerily, gesturing up at the large tower of a machine like a game show hostess displaying a fabulous prize. "A beauty, isn't she? I built her myself…well, with some help, of course. Took me around, oh, three hundred and fifty seven years to get it_ just_ right."

"Wow," was all Annise could muster, for one question had slipped into her mind past the barrage of information, and she had to ask it aloud. "So this is the machine that you used when you effed up and made that toy Santa?"

All the elves in the room collectively fell silent, and turned to look at Curtis.

Curtis turned very red. "Aren't you a _little_ young to be using language like that?"

"What, English? No," said Annise flatly, in her best Ellington impersonation. It worked for Ellington. Why not her? "Well? Was it?"

"Umm…" Curtis turned even redder. "Why don't we go look at something else…"

The elves all burst out laughing, and turned back to their work as Curtis led Annise out by the hand.

"I guess you haven't really lived that down yet, have you?" Annise commented.

"What do _you_ think?" Curtis snapped, sounding much like Bernard. Apparently both could emulate their older counterparts with great accuracy, should the situation require it. "I am barely living down that fiasco as it is! So _please_, before you decide to go around _reminding_ everyone of my mistakes, think of how you would feel in my shoes." He was breathing hard, visibly upset.

Annise, who was naturally sympathetic anyway, felt terrible for having called him out. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "That was a really thoughtless thing to say. Please forgive me."

Curtis nodded, but he was so ruffled that it took him a minute to fully realize that she had apologized. Then he nodded again. "_Thank_ you," he said. "Nobody apologizes to me."

"We're the younger ones," Annise agreed softly. "People forget us sometimes."

Curtis felt a pang in the chest. Poor kid, she must be having a hard time, with her dad and everything. Did she have anyone to talk to?

"Look, if you ever need anyone to talk to... I mean, I know you have Ellington, but…someone your _own _age, I'm here."He shrugged lightly, as if it didn't matter much to him either way.

"Um, aren't you like nine hundred and something?" Annise asked, confused. "I'm ten."

"Yeah, well, maturity wise, I'm your age, okay? Let's leave it at that."

"Okay." With a soft laugh, Annise shook her head. "Thanks." But her eyes stayed on the floor.

Seeing how she obviously still felt awful for embarrassing him, which was…refreshing, Curtis found it his duty to patch things up mainly as a form of apology for his outburst. "Why don't we go get some lunch?" he offered. "I know of a great little café in Elfsburg."

"Okay," Annise said, looking up with a sparkle in her eye.

"Come on," Curtis took her hand again.

On their way out of the workshop, they saw through the glass of the front doors two familiar figures coming up the stairs.

"It's Bernard!" Curtis cried, suddenly alarmed.

"And Ellington," said Annise happily, ready to step out and greet them.

"Quick! Hide!" Curtis pulled her behind a partition in the wall.

"Curtis, _why_ are we hiding from Bernard?" This seemed suspicious.

"Well…" Curtis reddened again... it seemed to be something he did often, Annise noted. "I _sort of_ didn't finish my assignment yesterday…he doesn't know yet…"

"Curtis!" Annise punched him in the arm.

"OW!" Curtis shot her an injured look. "What! Shoeing the reindeer is a difficult job! It takes a lot of time! And I was busy getting ready for your arrival, so...it sort of fell by the wayside."

Annise face palmed. "Okay, well…should we go take _care_ of it?" She was a very responsible young person.

Also, she knew that ticking off an older sibling figure was a _very_ bad idea.

"Shh!" Bernard and Ellington walked in through the doors, deep in conversation.

"…And they don't even _understand_ how difficult it is to manage everything!" Bernard was saying.

They just see the power aspect of the position and want the authority, _not _the actual work," Ellington agreed.

"Oh good grief," Annise whispered, annoyed. It was obvious who they were talking about.

Ellington said something quiet that they couldn't make out; but Bernard's reaction was marked. "Exactly," he said…but then his eyes widened. Bernard spun around, saying something back that was just as quiet.

This went on for a bit. They could see Ellington's face, and apparently she had the last word…in a way. Whatever she had said, Bernard seemed pleased with it. "Right," he agreed yet again, giving Ellington that cute smile of his.

He turned away and kept walking, Ellington following him with a vacant yet disturbed expression on her face. Bernard didn't seem to notice, because his back was to her. Also he was still talking. "But those above us just think we don't want to _share _the power. As if!"

Woah," Curtis breathed. "He _agreed_ with her. _Twice._" Seeing Annise's look, he said, "Bernard doesn't agree with anyone but Santa. Like, _ever._ And sometimes not even _him."_

_"_What about Mrs. Claus?"

"Well…" Curtis considered this. "Her too. Sometimes."

"…When we both know the real reason is…" Ellington was saying, but then was too far away for the eavesdroppers to hear anything more.

"'The real reason'?" Annise wondered. "What's the real reason?"

With a sigh, Curtis came out from behind the partition. "No idea. But gee," he laughed, "looks like my 'girlfriend' joke might have been right after all!"

"What girlfriend joke?" asked a voice from behind them.

Curtis paled.

* * *

Ellington had quickly brushed off her real concerns about Dottie, merely telling Bernard that Dottie didn't like that Ellington was the eldest. Bernard instantly began talking about his own troubles with being the eldest; this was just what Ellington had been hoping for. She didn't want all of the attention on her family issues just yet. Besides the rather publicized issue of her father's health. And so, for some odd yet welcome reason, the rest of their walk had been spent talking about being the eldest.

More than odd, really, since the elf was _centuries_ older than the girl of seventeen years.

But somehow, they had a lot in common. And it was enjoyable to have someone to talk to, Ellington found. Someone who understood. Their pace had slowed, till it was almost a stroll. Ellington soon discovered that listening to Bernard's stories was actually more satisfying than sharing her own (again, a relief, as she found sharing her own stories about as much fun as sharing her family issues.)

Passing the time in this way, it seemed to Ellington that they reached the workshop all too soon. As they climbed the stairs, Bernard was expounding on how stupid it was for_ anyone_ to want his job.

"They just _assume_ that running everything is a cinch! That it's all just some sort of power trip! They _assume _that they could take over, and they don't even _understand_ how difficult it is to manage everything!" It was obvious just who '_they'_ were. He was ranting about Curtis, clearly.

"They just see the power aspect of the position and want the authority, _not _the actual work," Ellington said knowingly. Then, just loud enough for him to hear, she added, "I suppose it was good that Curtis had his viewpoint corrected."

"Exactly," Bernard agreed, and then froze. He whipped around, eyes wide in disbelief.

"Did you just say _Curtis?"_

_"_Well, yeah," said Ellington quietly, ducking her head to avoid being overheard. "I mean, c'mon Bernard. Curtis is the one whose always giving you crap about being the Head Elf. Everyone knows that."

"Everyone knows…" Bernard trailed off. She was right, of course. It was obvious. But he never _really_ thought about it so matter-of-factly. It was a fact that was just sort of… well, there.

"Right," he said lightly, flashing that sideways smile that made every fan girl's stomach flop. Including Ellington's, regardless of how much she _loathed_ even the thought of her stomach flopping from a guy's smile. Or elf's smile. Whatever. Ellington didn't go for that kind of romantic garbage.

At least, not that she would admit to herself.

Because a corner of her heart felt soft and mushy all of a sudden, and she didn't much like the thought of it.

She heard him go on, something about how people above them thought that they didn't want to share the power. For some really weird reason (or maybe it was Bernard's ears) she was reminded of the Lord of the Rings, when Gandalf said, quite ominously, 'There is only one Lord of the Ring…and he does not share power with anyone.'…or something like that. Then she started imagining Bernard as an elf of Middle-earth, possibly wearing some sort of tight fitting

WHOA WHOA WHOA!

_What the hell! _Ellington reeled her mind back in with a vengeance. This was _wrong_, on _so_ many levels. She set herself back into the moment, where Bernard had paused waiting for her reply. Desperately, she searched for something that sounded smart _and _made sense.

"It's not about our wanting the power to ourselves," she blurted (or what felt like blurting, maybe it was normal talking after all) as she followed after him into the crowds of the workshop. "The idea is completely ludicrous, especially when we both know that the real reason we don't want their help with serious tasks lies in the simple fact that we _know_ they will bungle it up!"

Bernard stopped in his tracks. _Oh great, I've done it again, _Ellington thought. He turned back to her. "Do you feel that?"

Ellington's heart sped up. _Damn you, involuntary cardiovascular responses. _"What?"

"A crawling sensation. On your skin."

If possible, Ellington's heart sped up even more. She considered this. Sure enough, an unsettling creeping chill was washing over her skin. It had a prickle to it.

"Yeah. What _is_ that?" she wondered, somewhat annoyed.

Bernard looked around suspiciously. "We're being watched."

Ellington didn't think this was the reason at all; at least not for her. But given that Bernard felt the same thing (and certainly not for the same reasons), she figured he must be right. They_ were_ being watched. Her stomach agreed.

It only took a few seconds for Bernard to spot Curtis' elbow sticking out from behind the partition. But it was Ellington's idea to sneak up on them.

"…Gee," Curtis was laughing. "Looks like my girlfriend joke might have been right after all!"

Oh, God. Why?! Weren't her own hormones enough? She didn't need encouragement! She needed rebuttal!

Ellington felt her stomach twist. If anything else happened to her stomach today she was going to have to start worrying about the negative effects on her health.

Forcing herself not to check Bernard's facial expression, she asked,

"What 'girlfriend' joke?"

Things were getting even more complicated than Ellington had expected.

* * *

**Well well well! You made it. The end of chapter three. I'm pretty surprised myself…I was initially anxious about posting this story at all…okay, ****_fine_****, I'm still anxious about posting this story at all. PLEASE, pity the author, who is ripping fistfuls of her hair out in worry that her writing is giving people headaches. *single tear* **

**Okay, enough with the pity party.**

**But seriously. Guys. Make my day, and ****_please_**** REVIEW! Even Guests can review, and it would really mean a lot to**

** Yours truly,**

**etiquette-faux-pas**

**Informally Ana**


	4. Ice the Final Frontier

**Happy Holidays, guys!**

**Let the madness begin.**

**So who's ready to learn about Dottie? She sounds like fun, right?**

**Oh, and someone else we (haven't) missed returns…**

**Before I post the next chapter though, thanks to those who reviewed! ****_SafyreSky, Stinker126, ShayLee64, _****and ****_Just Lindsey, _****you guys are the best! Filled my day with tinsel and candy fluff…yes, I ****_know_**** it's technically either candy floss or cotton candy, let me live a little! Geesh. Anyhoo, a few questions have been raised that I would like to address. Thank you, ****_SafyreSky_**** for finding my faux-pas! (heh heh heh.) I knew I'd lost it. So here's my why-list, for those who are confused with my ramblings:**

**etiquette-faux-pas' why-list.**

**1. Firstly, I would like to say that this story is based on a hypothesis: that ****_The Santa Clause _****is not in an AU. **

** being said, Ellington and Annise are very much from our universe. Being children of the 21****st**** century, chances are that they would know of ****_The Santa Clause_**** movies as popular Christmas films. We do, right? And in chapter three, it became clear that Ellington was at least a little more invested in the movie than your average kid. *wink wink***

**3. Plus, I personally got tired of reading the part in other fanfics where they 'figure out' that the movies are real. Or they never knew there were movies at all. So I decided to do something different. Hopefully it's not too odd so as to be difficult to understand. **

**4. Additionally, I meant to have the girls not read too much into the fact that the movies ****_were _****real. I wanted their reaction to be a bit childish and naïve. We know that Ellington is normally far from naïve, so I wanted to make it obvious how that initial joy just kind of took over. Almost as if they were kind of afraid it was a dream, and if they fought it too much they might wake up.**

**5. Or something like that.**

** 6. I based Ellington and Annise off of my relationship with my own sister. We don't always agree, but we love each other to death, and yes, tend to get ahead of ourselves sometimes. That sort of reflects on how these two act when actually at the Pole; they just go with it. Enjoy the experience. But yes, we will see their fallout moments too. ;)**

**7. And some of it is just my crappy Word/rookie mistakes. And then my plot holes… I don't have plot bunnies, I have plot ****_moles._**** They don't always help out the way I'd prefer…**

**All in all, thanks for reviewing! Nice to know somebody's out there paying attention. J**

**Hope everyone has a great kick off to the holiday season.**

**Cheers,**

**Ana **

**P.S. Thanks for prodding me to write more! I had thought I was updating too fast. The holidays give me a writing buzz that's as inspiring as Judy's cocoa! E.F.P**

**P.P.S. And ****_ShayLee64, _****I was psyched to see someone else who was a trekkie liking ****_The Santa Clause_**** too! I'm working on a couple of fics… mostly TOS and Star Trek 2009. So cool! I think you'll like this chapter. ;) Funny thing is, believe it or not, I actually had this written before you reviewed…just couldn't post it yet. (Dumb wifi!) SO. WEIRD. The universe is messing with me.**

**And many pardons to those who hate Trek.**

**But those ears! The puns! Can you blame me?**

**Ana**

* * *

4. Ice…the Final Frontier

Bernard didn't like the way things were going.

For example, with Ellington.

Actually, it all had to do with Ellington.

Before she had come to the Pole, Bernard had made up his mind. He would _tolerate_ the girl's presence, perhaps eventually be friendly (_if_ the girl wasn't a spoiled brat, and he wasn't pushed towards it), and spend as little time around her as possible, so that he could keep his focus on his work…_not _on the Clause.

Talk about preclusion. Mrs. Claus would have given him a lecture, had she known.

But who said 'chaperoning' had ever been his thing? He wasn't 'Tour Guide Barbie'.

Or even 'Tour Guide Bernard'.

And so, a week into their stay, Bernard found it disturbing that he actually didn't _mind_ when Ellington tagged along. He had to bring her, obviously; but that aside, he even slightly…dared he think it?.._enjoyed_ her company.

And why not? She was funny; pretty, smart. And had a knack for tossing one-liners back his way with ease.

What was so bad about that?

What was so bad about that, he reminded himself, was that it was distracting him from his work. He should be focusing on maintaining quotas, not holding a mental debate with himself on whether it was okay for him to like Ellington.

Wait…

…LIKE_ ELLINGTON!?_

"Ugh." Bernard groaned. His mind was playing games with him, and he was losing.

Which was _so stupid._

After all, it wasn't like he hadn't been around other pretty girls in all of his (almost) seventeen hundred years. He was acting…

"Illogical," he said out loud. That was it. _Illogical._

"What, you're Vulcan now?"

Bernard sighed mentally. Outwardly, he scowled and turned around to face Ellington.

She was completely straight faced as she lifted one hand, giving him the Vulcan salute. "Straighten those curls into some bangs and I just might believe it."

"Oh _please_ tell me you're not into _Star Trek,_" said Bernard, rolling his eyes but inwardly wishing he hadn't chosen to wear such a nondescript blue shirt.

"Well with that tone, would I tell you if I was?" Ellington said pointedly. She looked at the clipboard in his hand. "What are you doing? Crossword?"

Another scowl.

"Oh c'mon; don't even _try_ to tell me that you're not _that_ old."

Bernard stalked off, deciding not to answer her question. Unfortunately Ellington, being the Emissary she was, was forced to chase after him. And he, being the Chaperone, was forced not to chase her off.

Yes, things had reverted back to terseness. It happened regularly each morning: they went back to square one, pissing each other off.

By evening, they were positively chummy.

But it was only seven thirty, a.m.

Santa was with Curtis, checking out some problematic toy trains in Engineering. Seeing Bernard coming towards them wearing a miffed expression, Santa raised an eyebrow. "Look out," he muttered to Curtis, who visibly braced himself.

"Already at it, you two?" Santa crossed his arms.

"She's a certified pain in my side," Bernard huffed. "_I_ didn't start _anything."_

"A worse pain than Curtis?" Santa countered, cocking his head meaningfully.

Bernard's indignant look faltered.

Curtis gasped. "Hey! I…"

"Dammit, Jim!" hollered Ellington, weaving through the crush of elves to catch up with them. "I'm a doctor, not a track star!"

Bernard made a low sound… almost a growl. Santa and Curtis leaned away from him.

Santa turned to Ellington, his expression shifting into one of amusement. "Trekkie?" He said to her, raising one hand in the Vulcan salute.

"Oh not you too!" Bernard grumped, but Ellington, now beaming, (heh heh, pun) said, "You bet! Haha, _suck_ it, Bernard! Even the big man's a Trekkie!"

"Why else would be I walking around Engineering dressed all in red?" Santa said, mischievously.

"Because, um, _you're Santa_?" Bernard snarked. But the joke must have been lost on him.

It was Ellington's turn to gasp. "Scott_-y!"_ And both she and the big man burst into peals of laughter.

The rest of the elves in the workshop, hearing Santa's laughing, joined in for no apparent reason…leaving Bernard looking much put out.

Finally, the laughter subsided. The elves went back to work as if nothing had happened. "Wow, did you two _plan_ the matching color scheme?" Santa asked, eyeing Ellington's shirt. Bernard wasn't the only one dressed in a particular shade of blue. However, Ellington also wore tight black pants with black boots.

She should have looked uncomfortable, like Bernard did…but instead she just laughed. "_No._ I stayed up all night watching reruns…I don't need to tell you what of. I guess it rubbed off on my fashion sense." She chucked a thumb at Bernard. "_He,_ on the other hand, has no excuse. Shouldn't he be wearing red and green?"

"Only _every day_," Curtis scoffed. "He hasn't worn blue in over three hundred years! It's like he's trying to impress y– OW!" He had been smacked upside the head by…guess who?

"_Bernard_," Santa said sternly, but the Head Elf stomped off down the production line to take notes…or finish his crossword, whichever was more likely to be true.

Ellington sighed. "Oh, let him have some_ space_," she said, then burst out laughing again. "Oops."

Santa chuckled a bit. "So, who's your favorite character? A blue shirt, I assume?" Spock was the obvious choice, as first officer…funny, he had an odd love of rules that kind of reminded him of…

"Yeah," Ellington said, with starry eyes. "Leonard McCoy." Then her look grew wicked. "Bones is such a stubborn ass sometimes…well, most of the time. And that sarcasm! I love it."

"Right," Santa agreed, having just realized that no, Bernard wasn't like Spock so much after all. Both looked after the bossy, crotchety elf.

Ellington was thinking the same thing.

Well, almost.

_Dammit, kid! _ She chided herself._ He's an elf, not a Vulcan!_

* * *

"So why the heck isn't Dottie here yet?" Annise asked.

She was sitting with Quentin in the Research and Development Sector…or, the RDS, as it was often called. Curtis hadn't come for her that morning; he'd sent a message that there was to be some kind of meeting later that day and he had to prepare for it.

It sounded like a cop-out, and Annise was more than a little disappointed. Curtis was growing on her.

"Not sure, luv," Quentin said, from under a large piece of machinery. An assortment of loud cranking sounds echoed out as he worked. "Seems like Team Two is having trouble finding her. Is your sister notoriously difficult to locate?" His accent was _awesome,_ Annise had told him almost immediately, causing him to blush. So it wasn't only Curtis that did that then. Annise was beginning to wonder if all male elves had a habit of blushing at insults …or compliments. It had almost made her laugh, more than once.

"Sometimes," Annise admitted. "It depends. If it's something she wants or cares about, Dottie's easy to find. But if she doesn't want to do something…if it's difficult…"

"Well, I'd hardly call an 'all expenses paid' trip to the North Pole _difficult_, in a conventional sense," Quentin said, "but maybe in an emotional sense. Does Dorothy have emotional challenges?" He insisted on calling Dottie by her full name.

"Who doesn't?" Deflecting, yes; but it wasn't something Annise really wanted to get into. The young girl didn't like to express her feelings either. It was hard; especially with a sister like Ellington. Not that Ellington wasn't supportive. In fact, she always was the first to spring to Annise's aid; it had been a source of constant frustration to their parents that the girls never 'told' on each other. _Ever._ But despite her near constant show of bravado and sass, Ellington didn't show her real feelings any more than her younger sister did. Really, she was worse. Oh yes; Ellington could be charming and sweet to strangers and friends. But truthfully, outside of family, she didn't trust anyone enough to share her 'feelings' with.

"Hmm." The sound under the contraption stopped, but Annise was too deep in thought to notice.

"Hey Quentin," said Abby, skimming in. That was how she walked; like she was barely touching the ground.

Annise froze. She hadn't met this elf yet. And she had been waiting to.

The two locked eyes.

Three seconds later, they both started gushing.

"Ohmygosh! You're Abby! I _love_ you're dress, it's even better in real life!.."

"Ohwowhello! You must be Annise! I've been trying to find…"

Both stopped, then laughed and shook hands.

"Abby."

"Annise."

"Why don't you two go and get something to eat?" Quentin said, having emerged from under the machine. He was wiping his hands on a red and green bandana. "I've got to 'ave the space to myself anyway, for a bit." He picked up a gun-like tool and whirled, striking a pose. "Welding."

The girls went out, in fits of giggles. It was pretty obvious that they were going to be fast friends. Which was neat, because Annise didn't hit it off with just anyone.

When they were out of earshot, Quentin sighed. He felt bad, lying for the Council.

After all, the girls really ought to know that Dorothy had been at the Pole for four days already.

* * *

After the whole _Trek_ thing that morning, Bernard had remained in a mood funk, despite Ellington's best efforts to cheer him up. _Figures_, she had thought,_ that your interests would tick him off. _

Well, that, and maybe the fact that she'd gotten the entire workshop in an uproar over it.

Maybe.

Around midday, Bernard had growled something about a meeting, and frumped off. Ellington had gone back to her room, feeling oddly depressed. Like she'd failed at something. She needed a mental break…perhaps reading?

Browsing the shelves of her bookcase, Ellington's hopes fell. It seemed that the elves had expected her to have the reading interests of a typical teenage girl. Unfortunately, she didn't care much for werewolves, or vampires, or fallen angels. Finally, her eyes landed on a gilded spine: _Sherlock Holmes. _

With a sigh of relief, she grabbed it and flopped back onto her bed.

She didn't realize how tired she was until she was waking up.

The clock showed that three hours had passed. Wondering what would have woken her, Ellington sat up. It was only then that she heard the rustling that was coming from the kitchenette.

Grabbing the nearest weapon-like object,(a roll of wrapping paper) Ellington stealthily crept over to the wall partition between the rooms.

The rustling was still going.

Giving herself to the mental count of three, she leapt around the corner with an intimidating cry.

Only there was no one there.

Just her phone, vibrating on an empty bag of chips.

* * *

Bernard, on the other hand, was _not_ having a break. He was headed to a secret meeting of The Council of Legendary Figures.

Yes, it's true that _normally,_ only the Legendary Figures themselves were allowed to the Council meetings. But given the situation (it wasn't every day the Pole had three, human children wandering around), the Chaperones were required to be present as well. This meant that in Santa's Study this afternoon was Bernard, Charlie, and…

"Charlie, where's Curtis?' Bernard asked, glancing around for his chubby blond counterpart.

"No idea. Why, is he supposed to be here?" Charlie looked as if he'd just come from a nap.

"Yeah he is." An unnamed worry crept into Bernard's mind. But when he mentioned it to Santa, he didn't seem concerned. "Oh, he's probably just too nervous to attend," Scott had said. But that didn't make Bernard feel any better. He didn't need more reminders of how Curtis was unfit for his job.

"The first item on our agenda," Mother Nature began, after she and Carol had had a short battle of making the male Figures act closer to their own ages, "is one we have spoken of before." She went to the window, drawing back the drapes to reveal the view of the town. "On the outskirts of Elfsburg, the dark fog cloud commonly called the _Unknown _has begun to tint the walls of the Polar Cap." Mother Nature looked very grave. "For those of you who don't yet know what this means, Bernard will explain."

Bernard stood, and set his hands atop the table. "The Polar Cap is what keeps the North Pole separate from the rest of the world. It is very magical, yet its purpose is simple to understand. It protects the Pole from the non-magical influence of the world outside, shielding it from the disbelief of those without Christmas spirit. Its magic lies partly in the pure ice crystal from which it is made; the purest, clearest ice in the world, made entirely from light."

"Ice made from_ light?"_ Scott asked skeptically.

Bernard just shrugged. "Magic, remember?"

"Wow," muttered Sandman.

"No kidding," said Cupid, shaking his head in disbelief.

Even Carol looked impressed.

"That's incredible," Scott said, his voice reverent. "But what happens if we can't stop the Unknown?"

Bernard sighed and shifted uncomfortably, as thought he really hated what he was about to say. "In the event that the crystal becomes polluted, its integrity is compromised. In other words, its strength begins to fail. Should the pollution continue unchecked, the ice will darken completely, destroying all light it contains, and defeating the protection of its magic. "

"Without the Polar Cap protecting it the North Pole will cease to exist," Mother Nature finished. "There will be no more Santa, no more elves…no more Christmas."

"The Unknown is weakening the Polar Cap; it _is the pollution,"_ Bernard explained. "Therefore it is _imperative _that we discover the origin and cause of the Unknown, in order to devise an anecdote to its effects."

"What are we going to _do?!_" Easter Bunny cried desperately. "We can't let Christmas be destroyed! Think about the Clauses! The elves!"

"The world would never be the same, without Christmas," Cupid agreed.

"We have to do something, and fast," Scott said firmly. "The Unknown has _doubled_ its rate of progression in the past two weeks. At this rate, we have until…"

"The day after Christmas," Father Time said decisively.

"The day after Christmas, to _finish this thing_!" Scott banged his fist on the table, as the rest of the Legendary Figures cried out in agreement.

"Hear hear!"

"We won't let this thing beat Christmas Spirit!" Scott cried. Mother Nature held up her hands until they all calmed down.

"That reminds me," she said. "Speaking of a lack of Christmas spirit, we come to our second order of business. We all know of the _lovely_ girls that are staying here at the Pole." She smiled fondly, even as the others heartily agreed that Ellington and Annise were 'very, very good girls.' "The Connelly's are a sweet, funny, and charming pair of girls–"

Bernard huffed quietly. "Well, Annise is. Ellington is only when she _chooses to be."_

"–And are adjusting quite well to their new surroundings. However," Mother Nature said with a sigh, "their sister, Dorothy Agev-Connelly, is having a bit more trouble." From somewhere, she pulled a small remote. The picture over Santa's mantle turned into a plasma screen.

"Nice," Easter Bunny quipped.

They watched a short video, of Dottie being feisty with Team Two: fighting them off, in fact. "It appears that Dottie's Christmas Spirit is exceedingly low. She is distrustful, bitter, and, for some reason, resentful– towards her _sisters."_

The sound came on the film. "My _sisters?" _ Dottie spat. "Why would I want to see _them_? I stayed in here in Washington for a reason, you know. Dad's a lame a**, even without cancer."

A low murmur ran through the group.

"But, around others…" The video swept over Dottie at the mall, with friends: Cheery, bubbling, and _blonde_ as all get out. "Hi guys! How have you been? Oh, Sarah, that _blouse! Wow_, you look fab! How…"

"And on the phone with her sisters…" The recording began. It was Ellington first, her voice falsely cheerful. "Hey! Dottie…"

Then the shocker: "Hey sis! What's up?" Dottie, absolutely peppy. Ellington went on. "Oh, nothing much, you know…"

Dottie cut in: "Hey, guess what I did on Tuesday?..." And she chattered on and on.

Ellington sighed audibly at one point, but Dottie was unfazed.

When the recording ended, all around the table, there was outrage.

"What the…does she have a dual personality?!" asked Carol.

"No."

"Sleep apnea? Because those mood swings…" Sandman, of course.

"No…"

"Love problems? That back biting little–" Cupid was a little miffed, for the girls' sakes.

"NO...well, maybe. No boyfriend to speak of."

"I wonder _why_." Bernard rolled his eyes, and stood. "The long and short of it is: Dorothy is a brat. Sure, sixteen's a bit old, but I've seen worse. We're going to have to be careful while dealing with someone so–"

"Unstable," Mother Nature finished.

"Right." Bernard coughed. That wouldn't have necessarily been his choice of words. "Also, Dorothy being around her sisters may be a problem. The one time Ellington mentioned her to me, she said, and I quote: 'That I'm going to be living next door to Dottie for the foreseeable future…that's my real problem.' Obviously, there's some kind of conflict there, outside of Dorothy's contempt. The girls don't know of that."

"Or do they?" A cold, silky voice said. There, in the corner, leaned–

"Frost?" Mother Nature seemed surprised. Santa rolled his eyes. And Bernard? Well…

_Ugh! Could my day get worse?! _ was foremost in the Head Elf's mind as the icy Figure sashayed over to the table. A place magically appeared for him, to the left of Santa. To Santa's right sat Bernard, who was throwing eye daggers at the newcomer.

"Well, well," said Father Time. "It's been awhile since 'Naughty Jack' has shown his face at the Council Table."

Jack held up a hand. "Now, don't start in on me already. C'mon! I just got here. I think you all need to just," he nudged Tooth Fairy, "_brighten_ up." Tooth Fairy tossed his head irritably.

Frost sat, plastering his lips with a false smile and crossing his legs. "My point is, this _Ellington_ person seems to have a head about her; why _wouldn't _she know about Ms. _Dorothy_'s attitude? _Surely_ you've all heard of something called 'intuition'? I mean, I know Curtis hasn't, obviously…" He looked around. "Where is the little twerp anyway? I miss him."

Ignoring that comment, Mother Nature said, "Yes, Ellington is a very intuitive girl." She sighed, hating to agree with the roguish sprite, and addressed the others. "Jack may be right."

"She's more than intuitive," Carol commented. Seeing the others' questioning looks, she went on. "Didn't any of you read her profile? The girl is a borderline genius… her test scores are in the 99th percentile. And she's mature for her age. With a mind like that, I mean… she's future CEO material! She turned down Vassar, for tinsel's sake! And Annise is far from stupid herself."

Scott agreed. "It would be obvious to someone like Ellington, and she tells Annise just about everything. We should assume they know."

"Right." Bernard was about to stand, when the door to the Study burst open, and who should it be but…

"Oh. Sorry. Am I disturbing something?" Ellington panted, her curls tossed around in disarray. She still looked lovely as usual though. It was really starting to bother Bernard, how she somehow always looked great. She never thought so, though. Oh no; her opinion was quite the opposite.

For example: _Damn, I look scary today, _had been her first thought after dressing that morning. The 'virtual closet' always did her makeup, regardless of if she wanted to do it herself. Ellington was considering skipping the box entirely, and picking her own clothes from now on. But the 'Science officer of the Enterprise' outfit _had_ been delightful, sooo…

Jack looked surprised; then, his eyes began to sparkle. In a way that Bernard didn't like, _at all._

With a closer scan of the room, Ellington's face sobered. "Ohhhhh….this is a council meeting, isn't it?" She huffed angrily. "Dammit, Jim," she muttered to herself.

Jack sprung. "Trekkie, eh?" He said, rising to cross the room and shake her hand. "You must be the lovely, the intelligent Ms. Ellington. Allow me to introduce myself. I'm–"

"Back off, _Jack,_" Ellington said suspiciously, her eyes narrowing. "If you think I'm intelligent, then don't insult me by thinking I'll fall for your devilish, two sided charm."

The smile on Jack's face (almost literally) froze. "As effervescent as ever, I see," he said stiffly, straightening his lapels in embarrassment before stepping quickly back to his seat. The room seemed to grow a few degrees colder.

"Wow, Santa. You've sure got your 'shoulder demon/angel' thing going on there, don't you?" Ellington said, eyeing the two on either side of him and suppressing a smirk.

Bernard suddenly felt very friendly towards Ellington. He resisted giving Jack a smug look… _barely._

Meanwhile, Ellington's eyes fell on the screen. A picture of Dottie in a room at the Pole was displayed there.

The council gasped. Mother Nature clicked the plasma off, turning it back into a painting. But it was too late.

"Oh don't bother," said Ellington casually. She crossed her arms. "Dottie texted me twenty minutes ago, telling me she'd been kidnapped five days ago by insane midgets dressed as elves, who were holding her hostage in a place they kept calling 'The North Pole'."

Silence.

"_Awkward,"_ squeaked Easter Bunny.

"Okay," said Mother Nature. "I…guess we don't need to figure out how to tell you, then."

"Kidnapped?" Cupid wondered. All eyes flew to Scott.

"What! We had to use some…_unorthodox_ methods to get her here," Scott said defensively. Then he grew alarmed. "But hey, how did you know where we were? This meeting was supposed to be secret!"

Ellington's eyes widened, as if she'd just remembered something. She had, actually. "Quentin told me," she said, her tone suddenly cautious. "After I found …um…_someone_ doing something they shouldn't be doing…"

From deep in the Workshop, a siren began to blare.

Santa and Bernard reddened. "_Curtis!" _they yelled; equally annoyed, for once. Both ran out, Bernard grabbing Ellington by the arm almost as an afterthought.

Yup. They knew about intuition, all right.

And, on another note, it was glaringly obvious that Jack Frost's interest was piqued. He wasn't going to leave the 'effervescent Ellington' alone anytime soon.

The creepy way his eyes followed after her confirmed it.

* * *

They took off down the halls. Ellington found herself with an odd sense of déjà vu…this reminded her of the 'Elfcon 1' scenario in the second movie. Only now, instead of being in the audience, she was running with Santa, while holding Bernard's hand.

Which had_ not_ been her doing, by the way. Apparently Bernard found it hard to sprint awkwardly in that weird way he did (you know what I'm talking about?) while holding her by the arm. Ellington was just glad that she had the running as an excuse for her flushed cheeks.

She was also glad for the running because she didn't have to tell them what had happened.

It was apparent upon arrival.

It was all over. Everywhere. On every toy, every tool, every gift; wrapped and unwrapped.

Glitter. Silver. Glitter.

And it was entirely Curtis' fault.

Because only Curtis would walk by the pressurized glitter canister– that was a full story high, located in the _center_ of Distribution, _under a vent–_with a _flaming blow torch._

That, of course, he had borrowed from Quentin.

Who would be far from pleased to see what he'd done with it.

_And then the ventilation had turned on._

The glitter was sure to be wicking through _every room of the Workshop._

They stood, gaping at the sight.

Some of the glitter, swirling in a smallish tornado above the remnants of the canister.

Elves, wading through knee-deep glitter. Pulling each other up. Wiping the glitter out of their eyes, off their hands; scraping it off as if it were sticky…

Sticky…

_Oh God_. Ellington remembered Bernard showing her the glue tank that had been _attached_ to the glitter canister.

And there, sitting in the middle of it all, was a particular bowl cut with sideburns, worn by a particular elf that was _definitely _in hot water…

Without a word, Bernard dropped Ellington's hand (Ellington's stomach dropping as a result), and waded out to where the culprit was trying to make a mound of glitter to hide behind. Bernard kicked the pile into the air, it fluttering down around him, a substantial amount landing in his curls and atop his beret.

Then, he quite audibly began to yell at Curtis.

A few maintenance elves that had arrived with vacuums turned them on high, in an effort to protect the younger elves from the barrage of harsh words flowing from the Head Elf's mouth. Ellington was almost certain she had heard him construct several rather colorful sentences that would have 'made a sailor blush', as the saying went.

Santa didn't even stop him. He just stood there, looking horrified.

Ellington had once thought that the sight of Curtis getting an earful would be funny. But now that she was here, watching it happen, she didn't find it very funny at all.

She pitied him. And what was more…sympathized.

Because she could see Curtis growing angrier and angrier, even though he said nothing. The tight look on his face said more than words could…

To a point, that is.

Because after Bernard said something lower, with a series of large hand gestures, Curtis shouted, "Fine! I quit then!"

The entire room went silent. Even the vacuums were shut off. Somewhere, a fly was buzzing. It was the loudest noise in the room.

Now it was easy to hear Bernard, even though he was speaking in a normal volume. "You don't get to quit," he said evenly. "You're fired."

And with that he turned and stalked out, brushing past Ellington without a word.

Ellington looked at Santa.

Then at Curtis, who was also looking at Santa.

Santa sighed.

"He's right Curtis," he said solemnly. "This is _way_ past the last straw." He paused. "But you're not fired."

The elves audibly let out their breath.

"But you are _definitely…" _Curtis tensed.

Santa thought. "…demoted."

Santa took Ellington by the elbow and led her out, just as Annise and Abby rushed in.

Ellington caught Annise's eye as they passed. With that one look, Annise knew something awful had just happened.

Besides all the glitter flying around.

The expression (and glue) on Curtis' face confirmed it.

* * *

Walking back out the halls had an entirely different feel to it. Ellington kept seeing Bernard yelling at Curtis, replaying over and over in her mind. Her mouth tasted sour and her stomach kept clenching in anger. It was odd. She had expected to be on Bernard's side, but not so.

pointy eared bastard," she muttered bitterly, for the first time that day regretting the connotation to _Trek. _Because though far from emotionless, Bernard was starting to seem a lot less McCoy and a lot more Spock.

Less what she wanted and more what she didn't.

* * *

**Dun dun duuuunnn! (again.) Bernard sure threw a wrench in things, didn't he? And he doesn't even know it yet!**

**Awww! Poor Curtis! His life is ****_over! *sob* _****Demoted!**

**Ah well. **

**We all know he had it coming. **

**Comments. Reviews. PM's. I adore them all! And I'd love to expand my collection. *steeples fingers like a mad scientist, and cackles* **

**Have another chapter almost complete; will be up by Monday. J**

**Christmas cookies to you all!**

**Cheers, **

**Ana**


	5. Wanted: Number Two Girl?

**Ok so hi again! Got myself into a writing frenzy, and what do you get? Two chapters in one week! Woot!**

**_The Santa Clause 1, 2, and 3: _****If I owned them would I be here? No! I'd be making a fourth, better movie. This time with Bernard in it. Again.**

**(Insert usual disclaimers here.)**

**Also, I've decided to do something new: during random intervals of each chapter, I'm going to post an idea of what Ellington would listen to, especially during the holidays. I'm calling it…**

**ELLINGTON'S CHOICE!**

***echoes***

**So…on with the chapter!**

**Oh, but first:**

**ELLINGTON'S CHOICE: Carol of the Bells, by the Pentatonix.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

5. Wanted: Number Two Girl?

The Council eventually ruled to keep Dottie away from the other girls. _Temporarily_, of course. For some reason, they didn't think it was best for her to know that she actually _was_ at the North Pole.

Something about 'hostility towards Christmas' and 'the S.O.S."

So instead, Charlie was spending a lot of time with her, hoping to convince her that she hadn't been kidnapped.

It mainly involved lots of flirting, and plying her with cocoa.

Ellington, though sad to learn for certain of her sister's real feelings towards her, was far from surprised. Not that she really had time to _be _surprised.

She was _swamped._

After the whole Curtis/glitter fiasco, she had volunteered all of her spare time to the cause of restoring the Workshop. Yes, restoring.

The whole place had been thrown back. The schedule was destroyed. All of the gifts _ruined._ Who knew that a little glitter could be so devastating?

The point was, they had to remake the entire year's quota, which was an amazing number of toys, with Christmas being just over _two months away._

So Ellington, though only human, was granted authority by Mrs. Claus (when Santa was conveniently in Council) to float from department to department, helping coordinate, sort, clean, cook, redecorate, and generally help out, all the while using her usually disguised people/ big sister skills to encourage the elves from their semi-depressed state back up into their usual air of holiday cheer. That, and bribing the elf in charge of the intercom with cookies to play especially upbeat Christmas songs.

His name was Archie, by the way.

And he had a tooth for Ellington's cookies. They were especially good, even for cookies at the Pole. After all, she'd made them herself.

The funny thing was, she never ran into Bernard.

Which was good, actually; because she probably would have bitten his curly head off.

Ellington had also spoken to Santa (during a brief recess) about Curtis. It had been made very clear just what Bernard thought should be done with the ex-number two, but Ellington had another idea, more in line with what Santa was looking for.

Also, she was notoriously persuasive.

"Send him back to the Pantograph room," she had suggested. "After all, he built that machine; we're going to need his skills to duplicate the few good toys left. That extra boost in production could really make the difference, come the 25th."

Scott was impressed, and convinced. Curtis was sent back to RDS.

But Ellington kept her promise to Carol, and didn't tell Scott what she herself was up to.

And that same day, Curtis came to find her.

Ellington was in Wrapping, directing the removal of glitter from the wrapping paper by playing Parachute, like in preschool. And the elves were loving it. So far, they'd already cleaned 247 rolls, in an hour and a half.

"Denise, that corner's sagging–" Ellington called, over the sound of the elves' laughter . Then, Curtis cleared his throat in the doorway.

The laughing stopped.

"Oh, uh…hi, Curtis," Ellington said, inwardly cursing her awkwardness.

"Hi," Curtis said, looking a little sheepish. "Um…could I have a word with you? In the hall?"

Ellington hesitated. Was he angry? No, he didn't look it. Oh, why not. "Sure."

When they had stepped into the surprising empty hall, Curtis sighed.

Ellington, unsure what to do, sighed too.

Finally, Curtis looked up at her and said, "Thank you."

"Thank you?"

"For talking to Santa." Curtis rubbed his hands nervously.

"Oh, pfff," Ellington said, waving him off. "It was no big deal. Besides, everybody makes mistakes–_ even _if they make more mistakes than most."

Curtis blushed. "Yeah well, if it were up to Bernard, I would have been kicked out of the Pole altogether."

"Hm." Ellington snorted.

Curtis cocked his head. "You're…mad at him?"

"Well YEAH!" Having finally been asked the right question, Ellington's rage just poured out of her. "I mean, look at how he treated you! He _humiliated you, _in front of God and everyone! I know what it is to be an older sibling– and _yes,_ the older sibling of someone who makes some pretty hideous mistakes–but publicly humiliating is _completely _unacceptable, even after the _thousandth_ time they annoy you!"

If they were in a cartoon, Curtis' hair would have been blown back. "Wow."

"Yeah." She snorted, and crossed her arms. "So yes, I'm mad at him. Not that he _cares,_ but yeah."

"I think he cares more than you realize," Curtis said carefully. "You…_do_ know that he's locked himself in his room, right?"

"Well no. But I'm not _surprised_," said Ellington contemptuously. "He's probably all, "OMG, my life is _over!_ Christmas is ruined _for sure!_ And as usual, nothing is _my _fault!" She stopped, seeing Curtis' odd expression. He was staring at her blankly, and at the same time, with no small amount of alarm. "What? Do I have something on my face?"

"Um…no." Curtis blinked, and shook his head. "I dunno… its weird hearing you say this. I mean, it's like hearing Bernard saying he's mad at Bernard… only you're a girl, and a lot nicer than him on pretty much every count. But you two get along so well…"

Now Ellington just laughed outright. "As if! We argue about everything. He hates everything I like, and the half of the time we're not arguing, he's shunning me!"

"Well, I wouldn't say it's quite _that_ bad."

"Really? Because the looks he gives me, I'm beginning to think I'm morphing into a siren."

Curtis chuckled. "You do realize the sirens were beautiful, right? I think Bernard just isn't used to having a beautiful girl following him around everywhere." He blushed.

Ellington's jaw dropped. As did her stomach.

With unusual courage, Curtis went on. "Also, I think he likes you, and that actually _bothers_ him. Which is why he's so extra crabby with you, because if you think about it, even _I _manage to get along with him, under normal circumstances. So…yeah. I don't think it's you."

"I see," Ellington said, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. "Thank you, Curtis. That helps a lot. I think I know what I need to do now."

"You're welcome." Curtis' chest puffed. Feeling helpful was helping lift his spirits considerably. He suddenly felt very bubbly inside; so much so that without much thought, he flung his arms around Ellington's middle, and gave her a huge hug. "I'm glad you came, Ellington. You and Annise."

Ellington was shocked for a second; and then slowly, a smile spread over her lips. She gazed fondly down at the mop of blond hair. Come to think of it, he reminded her of her youngest sister a lot. _Him and Annise must really get along_, she thought. Which, of course, they did.

Curtis froze, suddenly realizing what he'd done. He pulled away quickly, but Ellington just laughed, and smiled down at him sweetly. He blushed again.

He really was such a cute little guy; she was even beginning to feel big sisterly towards him. Even despite the whole elfin age thing. Then, remembering what he'd said about her earlier, Ellington added, "By the way, those were some of the nicest compliments I've ever had. Thank you." And bending slightly at the waist, she leaned over and kissed his cheek.

Now Curtis' face turned cherry red. "Uhhh…" He stuttered.

Ellington, about to laugh again, was stopped by the sound of giggling down the hallway.

It was a whole bunch of the distribution elves, all female. Standing, gawking, and giggling at their 'little interaction.'

_Oh God no._

Ellington gave them a terrifying look that made them all squeak. "As you were," she commanded. Surprisingly, they all ran off together, down the halls with their packages. Towards their delivery site. Away from what they had just seen.

"Whew," Ellington breathed, when they had gone. "That was close."

Curtis wore a pained expression. "Those elves…" he began.

"Yeah? What about them?" Dread had edged into Ellington's tone. She didn't like the way this was going.

"…Are the worst gossipers in the _entire_ Workshop," Curtis finished.

"Wait…you mean..?"

Curtis gave her a meaningful look.

Ellington looked horrified. "Will they..?"

"Yup," Curtis confirmed, tremulously.

Those elves were doubtless spreading the news all over the Workshop: Ellington had _kissed_ Curtis.

Even if it was only on the cheek.

_Oh God._

_NO!_

* * *

As fate would have it, those same elves ran into Judy first. Now; Judy liked to stay a step ahead of any and all news. So naturally, upon seeing their excitement, she knew that they were up to mischief and told them to spill.

"No!" she cried when they told her, even though she knew full well that Ellington would never kiss Curtis–well, not _that _way–when she was so obviously interested in Bernard.

Well, obvious to_ Judy_, anyway.

The distribution elves ran off to deliver the news along with their packages, whilst Judy took the lunch tray she was carrying and delivered it to...guess who?

"Bernard!" she called, rapping smartly with her knuckles on his mahogany door. "I've brought your lunch. Open up, please!"

"I'm not hungry," a sullen voice grumped.

Judy set a hand on her hip, adopting a motherly tone. "Bernard, either you open this door, or I'll have to pick the lock again." Obviously, not the first time Bernard had pulled this stunt.

A sigh, then heavy footsteps. The lock was flung open.

"Thank you!" said Judy, stepping cheerfully into the room, and closing the door behind her with her foot.

It was dark. All the curtains were drawn. Judy flipped on the light, revealing a horrendous mess.

And a lump under the bedcovers.

Shaking her head, Judy said, "I brought you chicken soup."

"I'm not sick," the lump growled.

"Then stop acting like it," Judy countered. "You've been in here for days. Now, come and eat while it's still hot."

"No."

Judy sighed. She was a patient elf, but Bernard's stubbornness could try a saint sometimes.

Indeed, it had before. Just ask Saint Nicholas.

"Bernard, what's wrong?" She was prepared to listen, if he would talk. Listening was actually one of her best skills.

"What's _wrong?!"_ The lump–that is, _Bernard–_ wriggled angrily under the bedclothes. "It's two months until Christmas, Judy! _Two months_, and we've got nothing. Not a toy left! Ten months of work, _ruined!_ How are we supposed to come back from that?"

Judy (wisely) said nothing.

"We don't!" Bernard cried. "We don't come back from that. Christmas is ruined," he said brokenly, "and it's all my fault." He burrowed deeper into the sheets.

Judy came up and sat on the bed next to him. "Bernard," she said gently, "It's not all that bad."

"Yes it is," he mumbled, thoroughly miserable.

"No," Judy protested. "It isn't. If you had been up for the past three days, you'd have seen that things aren't as bad as we'd thought. Some of the toys have been salvaged, spot treated… and with Curtis back in RDS, the Pantograph is duplicating at top speed! If the Workshop continues to be _managed _well, we may just bounce back in time."

"_Curtis_ is back in RDS?!" Bernard said, furious but still refusing to come out. "Who came up with that idea? And 'continues to be managed well'? Who's managing? I've been in here, Santa's busy with the Council, trying to figure out that brat" –Dottie– "that…that thing, out there"–Judy knew he meant the Polar cap, where the ice was still continuing to darken– "and there isn't a Number Two elf!"

"Ellington, on both counts," said Judy.

"Ellington?"

Judy nodded. "Santa put her in charge of cleaning up the mess, after you holed up in here. She's doing…well, a _wonderful_ job. I've never seen things clean up this quickly– and elf morale is up 26 percent!"

"26 percent?!" Bernard snapped. Judy shushed him. "26 percent? That has _never_–I repeat, NEVER– happened in just three days. What did she do, spike the cocoa?"

With a dubious look, Judy said, "No, Bernard. She did _not _put liquor into our favorite beverage." She rolled her eyes. "She's just… _friendly. _She acts like a…a big sister to them, instead of bossing them around all day."

"Are you _trying_ to make me like her less?" said Bernard sourly.

Shrugging, Judy went over to the windows and pulled back the drapes. "No. Everyone else likes her. Whether you like her…or _like like_ her"–Bernard growled–"or don't like her at all is your own business… I guess."

"That's right it is," Bernard muttered, tossing beneath his blankets. "Just like it's my own business if I want to hide from the wicked ways of the world, in the COMFORT OF MY OWN ROOM!"

Another eye roll. Then, as if on cue, Judy had a rather wicked idea herself. "Suit yourself," she said lightly, making her way to the door. She paused, one hand on the doorknob. "Although…"

_Wait for it,_ she thought. _Wait for it…_

"'Although' what?" Bernard asked flatly. Judy full out grinned. He was so easy to guide.

"Well," she said, somewhat sadly, "If you stay in here much longer, you may not have to choose whether or not you _like like _her. I heard news that Ellington was seen kissing Curtis outside of Wrapping, not half an hour ago."

The effect was immediate.

"WHAT?!" Bernard roared. He shot upright in bed, the blankets whipping off to reveal wild eyes and an even wilder tangle of curls. "_Curtis?!"_

Judy turned to face him with a pitying expression, and sighed. "That's what I heard. It's probably all over the workshop by now."

"All over the…" began Bernard. He trailed off, but then asked, "Wait. Was there mistletoe involved?"

"Not from what I heard."

Bernard groaned and rubbed his face. "Oh, burnt gingerbread."

Judy turned to go.

"Judy?"

"Yes, Bernard?" She looked back over her shoulder.

"Get me my clothes. And…is that soup still hot?"

"Yes…and it still will be when you _get out of the shower,_" Judy said, wrinkling her dainty nose. "It smells like something's been hibernating in here…I think it's you."

* * *

_ELLINGTON'S CHOICE: Crystallize, by Lindsey Stirling_

Ellington was furious.

And it wasn't just with Bernard, either.

She was sitting alone in the topmost dome of the Workshop. At the end of a long, winding staircase there was a sort of circular deck, with a guardrail that you could straddle and hang your feet down over the edge. A faint warm breeze that smelled like a combination of cinnamon, pine needles, sugar cookies and glue wafted up from the Workshop below, causing her long dark curls to flutter around her lower back. That morning, Judy (whom she had _finally_ met) had come to help her dress. The fashion wise elf had encouraged Ellington to wear her hair down, allowing her naturally curly hair to form the tight ringlets she had always hated. But somehow, with Judy's help, she was beginning to like her hair–especially after the elf had tied part of it back with a dark green satin ribbon. It perfectly matched the outfit Judy had picked for her: a knee-length dress with fluttery sleeves that was belted with a thin black belt with a silver buckle; over white tights worn with black ballet flats. Although Judy herself had done Ellington's makeup, she had kept true to Ellington's classic look: the black mascara to make her light blue eyes pop, the paled skin, and the bright, cherry red lipstick she preferred. "Don't mess with a good thing," Judy had said; and Ellington had agreed. She didn't like to be too adventurous with her makeup. And she was certainly grateful for the face time; a little live interaction was loads better than the silent procuring of a wardrobe like the virtual closet gave.

Ellington really didn't care too much for looks; as long as she could think clearly, she was happy…not that she wasn't thankful when she (as she thought, rarely) looked pretty. Especially nowadays; and even more so when she was angry. She didn't look pretty when she was angry.

_Which is a large part of the problem,_ she thought, swinging her feet high over the working elves below. There was just so much to be frustrated with. Sure, she was livid with the pointy eared hobgoblin (no matter how hard she tried, that branding just wouldn't get out of her head), but besides that she also had Dottie to be angry at. No Christmas spirit, indeed. And also, her father's health to worry about. Though it didn't burden her the way it used to before she came to the Pole, Phillip's terminal cancer nagged in the back of her mind almost constantly. Sandman had told Ellington that he had placed both of her parents in a magical prolonged sleep state: to encourage the restoration of their health, and to keep them from wondering where the girls were. He had given them both an extra long dream, a dream that basically played out a secondary reality; of what would have happened if the girls hadn't gone to the Pole. Which was good, because Phillip and Josette would never know that their daughters had been gone at all. But that was it. So far, the Council hadn't come to any conclusion about what, if anything, could be done for Phillip's health…even though they had a load on their hands with Dottie, Ellington had a suspicion that something else was going on too; an unsettled feeling in her gut–and her gut was only very rarely wrong.

And there was herself to be mad at, too.

Herself?

Yes, herself. Why in the _world_ had she allowed herself to become emotionally attached, however distantly, to _Bernard_? If one thing had been made clear in the movies, Bernard didn't like to be trifled with; and so far, she couldn't seem to help herself; which wasn't exactly the best combo. He acted like such an uppity b**ch sometimes– but then, so did she, on occasion. It was the subtle similarities that kept her heart hoping for more…even though her mind _loathed_ the idea of a boyfriend, or even a Significant Other. Why couldn't she just turn off that little glimmer in her chest whenever he was near?

Ugh. She even hated how that sounded in her own head.

No, Ellington thought, tucking her feet up under her, things were far from how she wanted them to be. Because like it or not, Ellington knew she wanted him to like her. Not _like like_ her–well, not _necessarily–_but like her, as a person. As…a friend?

It was stupid, she told herself. So stupid. After all, the first few days had gone well; but then…he'd just, pulled away. Like _she_ often did with others. Ellington had to admit, she didn't _like_ that at ALL. To be on the receiving end of the cold shoulder was another thing entirely; and frankly, she wanted it to end.

Ellington had decided what to do. She must be kind, understanding. No; this wasn't her usual sarcastic strain. But wouldn't she have responded in a similar way if all of the blame for said incident had fallen, ultimately, on her own head? That's right. However, trying to be kind when Bernard had locked himself into his room was easier said than done. So she would continue on with her 'work', and hope that eventually , the news of her and Curtis' 'kiss' would reach him. She figured that that would piss him off so much–for Curtis' sake, of course– that he would_ have to_ come out. Maybe then he would see all she had done to make things better, both for Christmas, and for him. Maybe that was really the only way she could be close to Bernard: through work. Pitiful, yes; but if that was all she could have, she was going to take it.

With this settled Ellington rose, just as her new phone, the one the elves used to contact her, went off. She read the text and smiled. Helping the elves made her happy in a way she wasn't used to; it overruled her sarcastic, bitter side and brought out her nicer qualities. Feeling warm inside and glad to be needed, she began the decent back down to the Workshop. The elves in the Naughty and Nice Center needed her help: how were they going to get all of the sticky glitter glue off of the computer consoles?

Ah, all of the things you could use duct tape for.

* * *

On the balcony just above the Workshop, Mrs. Claus dragged Santa out to see something she had been waiting to show him. Scott, who had only just gotten out of Council, was still rather preoccupied.

"Carol, what is it?" He said, a bit impatiently. "I'm up to my ears here! I don't have time to admire the view. Especially such a _sad_ one."

Without Bernard leading them, the elves were scattered, careless, and extra noisy. They were busy cleaning up the place, of course; buckets of soapy water and scrubbing brushes abounded in the hands of the Maintenance elves. But without a Head Elf to lead them, they just sort of…milled around, scrubbing this or that carelessly, and looking very alarmed. And adding to the general chaos of the situation, some of the more energetic elves were running around, accidentally tipping buckets of hot water all over the floor yelling things at each other.

"I should probably be down there, sorting this out." Scott said, gazing wide eyed at the commotion below.

"Actually, _Bernard_ should be down there," Carol observed keenly. "But in the case of his…somewhat teenage behavior, yes, you should be. And you would probably be giving a speech on how hopeless everything seems right now."

Scott sighed. "You're probably right."

Carol gave him a sideways look. "I _am_ right. Fortunately, I found someone who is better suited for this kind of situation."

Scott gave her a questioning look. Carol, suddenly burst into a grin, pointing down into the Workshop.

Ellington could be seen, climbing down the last few landings of the staircase.

"Ellington?!" Scott cried.

Carol was surprised. "Really? You heard me say she was future CEO material. We needed someone to help out in Bernard's stead. You were busy, and Curtis is…well, you know. So I picked the next best candidate. Why not make Ellington…?"

"Oh no no," said Scott, shaking a finger at him. "NO! She's just a _girl, _Carol! A _human girl_! And you _know_ she and Bernard don't get along well! Why would you set her up for failure like this? Without asking me?!"

"Just watch," Carol said, suppressing a grin. He hadn't seen what she had.

As Ellington reached the bottom of the stairs, one of the elves (whose name happened to be Zach) gave a cry. The rest of the elves halted in their paths, whirled, and rushed to the staircase, yelling things at her that needed to be done, pointing at things that were broken…

Scott's eyebrows rose.

"Keep watching," Carol insisted.

Ellington, holding her hands up above her head, actually got them to fall silent. She pointed to the buckets, then at various walls, and then, at several elves, making groups of them and sending them off to clean up with a smile and a pat on the shoulder.

Then, she instructed some others to remove all the spoilt toys, and to vacuum up the loose glitter. It went on like this, as Ellington doled out jobs to each elf kindly and patiently.

Finally, the floor of the Workshop was buzzing in a pattern similar to its normal flow, and the landing before the staircase was empty. Ellington nodded approvingly at the room in general, and pulled out a phone to speak to someone briefly before shoving it back into her bag. She waltzed over to the Naughty and Nice Center, speaking to the elves on duty and pointing to the consoles, explaining something.

And the atmosphere was back to something similar to the order that normally reined. Orderly, efficient, and cheerful, just as some of the best Christmas tunes began to pour over the loudspeaker. Ellington's head snapped up, and she grinned, pointing and giving two thumbs up to the DJ's booth where Archie was spinning his magic. If possible, the mood grew even brighter, and calmer, as the elves danced happily while scrubbing away the glittery grime.

Santa stared, slack jawed. How had she done it?

Carol looked smug. "Told you."

After several seconds, Scott began to nod. "Yes. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I think we have a winner."

* * *

Scott and Carol weren't the only ones watching Ellington's exploits. From behind a large toy sorting machine, Jack Frost saw the talented seventeen year old take control of the elves with utter surety. _Something I like in a woman,_ he thought. _And those eyes! Those light, sparkling blue eyes…_

Jack knew his time was coming. The girl might not be interested in him _now_; but Bernard wasn't giving her the kind of attention she was asking for–it was obvious, wasn't it? The way she looked at him when his back was turned, and how she challenged his every word–clearly, it was driving Bernard nuts. And not in an entirely bad way…you didn't have to be Cupid to see that there were some unacknowledged sparks between those two. But Mr. Head Elf was anything but demonstrative, and Ellington couldn't even admit to _herself_ that she liked him._ As long as this distance between them continues to grow, _Jack realized,_ it won't be long before I can move in._

In the meantime, it wouldn't be a bad idea to gain some allies. Annise was ruled out immediately: too much of a goody-goody. But that third sister might not be such a bad idea. After all, Jack could use someone with such little Christmas spirit on his side… someone who didn't wish 'those lovely girls' such lovely things. Some close who could be turned against them….

_Yes..._Jack thought deviously, rubbing his hands together in a very stereotypical way. _It's time to learn a bit more about Dorothy._

* * *

_ELLINGTON'S CHOICE: Holly Jolly Christmas, by Michael Buble_

Bernard stormed down the hall, away from his room and towards the Workshop.

_I let her out of my sight for two days,_ he thought, _and what do I get? She starts lip-locking with my ex-number two_! _ Dammit, Curtis! You just had to beat me at something, didn't you? _He needed to have words with Ellington Connelly.

After asking several rather startled elves, Bernard learned that Ellington was in the Kitchen. His mind still a boiling lava cauldron of rage (and jealousy,) he stormed into the Workshop, making a beeline for the Kitchen.

He paused outside the door. Did he really want to go in there and make a scene?

Why yes. Yes he did.

Bernard flung open the doors…and gaped.

With Ellington's help, the elves had made the most headway in the Kitchen. It was actually back to its original pristine condition, and baked goods were pouring out of its ovens at full speed. Ellington had just stepped in for a few minutes to view the progress when she had gotten caught up with helping catch up on the cake quotas. She had just put another into the side oven when the doors flung open.

Bernard's face was dark. Angry.

Ellington ducked behind some supply shelves.

Though she had irritated him before today, Ellington felt her stomach tighten. She hated seeing him angry. Why could he just be pleased? They had accomplished so much in his absence.

The elves, equally disturbed, froze. No one breathed.

But after a few seconds of glaring at the room around him, Bernard's expression shifted into one of disbelief. He gazed around the room in awe, taking in the sight of all of their hard work.

"Who did this?" he asked, confused. Even though he knew, it seemed like too much to believe. One, human girl couldn't manage all of this…could she?

Seeing his façade soften, Ellington got an idea. Walking quietly over to the nearest cake (which happened to be a rich, chocolate on chocolate glazed number she had made herself,) she cut a slice, and set it on a plate. Then, grabbing a fork and all of her courage she stepped out and strode lightly down the row of elves. Ellington walked right up to Bernard and put the plate into his hands, with her kindest, most innocent expression. She gave him a small, sweet smile. "Well, you were busy."

* * *

**YAAAAAAAAAY! I met my own deadline. *smiles happily*  
**

**OMG! What will Bernard's response be? Will Jack continue to be creepy? WTF is going on with the Unknown? ****We'll see what happens in Chapter 6…I've got most of it written up but not typed, and my original manuscript didn't have Jack in it, so I'm having to adjust as I go.**

**I'd like to float an idea by you guys: I'm considering doing a message-board style fic for this story. What do you think? Would you read the random cyber drabbles of Ellington and the other characters of****_ The Emissary Clause? _****Let me know!**

**All the Best to you and yours,**

**-Ana**


	6. Wait what just happened?

**Greetings and Salutations!**

**Okay so here's the next chapter. More Jack creepiness, more WTF moments, lots of stubbornness, humor, angst, and heartbreak…. and of course, what happened with the cake. Hope you guys like it. J**

**Pardon any mistakes.**

**Oh, and (Insert Usual Ownership Disclaimers here.)**

**All the Best to you and Yours,**

**etiquette-faux-pas**

* * *

6. Wait…what just happened?

Ellington watched as Bernard's expression shifted between that of confusion, anger, and surprise. His gaze kept moving from the cake to Ellington, as if unsure which was more confusing: that the Workshop was somehow miraculously running again, or that Ellington was being…well, _nice._

She raised an eyebrow, and nodded at the cake. Uncertainly, Bernard lifted the fork, and took a bite.

Now, arming herself with the knowledge that Bernard didn't often give compliments, Ellington watched his response closely. And she wasn't disappointed. It was obvious that he was fighting letting his eyes roll back into his head in delight. Ellington beamed. Whoever said words were necessary for compliments, anyway?

But then, rather suddenly, Bernard's face filled with steely resolve. His eyes grew cold, calculating. It was disturbing. Then, without any warning, he spun on his heel, and marched out of the Kitchen without looking back.

He did take the cake, though.

Looking after him and wondering what it all meant, Ellington felt her stomach fall. She normally took rejection in stride, but this… this felt like she'd just been slapped across the face. She looked down at the ground, mortified; feeling her cheeks redden in shame. She had been so sure that would work.

"Now what?" One of the elves asked.

Ellington wondered the same thing.

_What the heck was going on?_

* * *

The cake had been the last straw. Really it had. The progress with the Workshop was one thing; the fling with Curtis had been another. Ellington had gone too far. _Screw the Clause_, Bernard had thought, _and how it's trying to screw me over._ This was the end of it: the fighting, the tension, the sarcasm. It was time.

Bernard stormed into Santa's study without knocking. Santa, who was sitting at his desk looking over some notes from the Council meeting (which had just finally adjourned for the week), looked a bit surprised. Ignoring this, Bernard plunked the plate down on Santa's desk, his expression wild.

"Try this," he demanded, pointing to the cake.

Santa looked up at him warily.

"Try it!"

Carol walked in. Observing the looks flying between the two she asked, "Anything wrong, boys?"

"Bernard wants me to try this cake," said Scott carefully.

"Well then, Scott. Try the cake," Carol affirmed. She had, of course, heard about what happened in the Kitchen.

Santa picked up the plate and, ever so gingerly, took a bite.

He _couldn't _stop his eyes from rolling back into his head.

"Silver bells_,"_ he breathed. "Who made this?" Seeing Bernard's look, Scott said, "Ellington? No way! Honestly, is there anything that girl _can't_ do?"

"Remind me to ask her," said Bernard solemnly.

Scott turned back to his Head Elf. "Wait, you two are talking again?"

Bernard shook his head. "That's beside the point. If things go the way I hope, we won't have to worry about…communication issues anymore."

Scott shared a look with Carol. "Go on."

Taking a deep breath, Bernard began. "We've all seen what Ellington has done with the Workshop…in my absence."

"Yes," Carol agreed tentatively.

"And we all know what she's like when she's working. I've heard the rumors: she's sweet, kind, a natural leader. A big sister figure that the elves haven't had yet. They like it, and what's more, it works. I mean, look at all that's been accomplished in the past week!"

"Right." Scott had known this since the balcony incident. "We know this better than you do, Bernard; we've seen it firsthand."

"Where are you going with this?" asked Carol, genuinely intrigued.

Bernard sighed. He knew that, under no circumstances would he ever live this down. But he really didn't have much choice, did he? The facts were right there, glaringly obvious. He couldn't ignore it anymore.

"I know there are a lot of things that could seem to be in the way, protocol and such, not to mention certain…_racial_ details; but I think…I mean, in light of the circumstances…"

And so, pushing past the thick wall of resistance he had built up in his mind over the past month, Bernard said, a bit too forcefully….

* * *

"What?"

"I don't know. What else can I do?"

Ellington was sitting with Judy at an outdoor café, the snow falling in wisps around them. Judy had her hands around a mug of cocoa, dressed only in her everyday clothes. Ellington, on the other hand, was buried beneath her scarf and coat like it was her last hope of survival. Bernard had been right; the weather was still sometimes a bit of a shock to her, even though she had been raised in Seattle.

But Ellington didn't feel much like thinking about the things Bernard was right about just then.

"He just stared at me with this totally unreadable look…and then like he had just figured out what kind of a person I was." She sighed, and sipped at her apple cider. "I feel so stupid, Judy! I really had to fight myself to be so…friendly, I guess; and he just threw it back in my face! I don't even know what to do. I think he hates me–whether for _stealing his job_, or for being alive… I just don't know." Things had yet to seem so hopeless since her arrival to the Pole. Ellington was really at a loss.

"Oh dear," Judy said sympathetically, setting her hand on top of Ellington's. "I know Bernard can come off a bit…_gruff,_ sometimes; but he only rarely hates anyone, least of all you." She paused momentarily, before saying, "And I think the Curtis incident got back to him. It made him pretty upset." Aw, snowballs; that had been her fault.

"Then why the heck doesn't he say so?!" Ellington cried, brushing a stray curl away with the back of her hand. "This is bogus! I put my everything into this, the one thing he seems to care about, and what do I get? I just piss him off even more!" She hid her face in her hands. "I don't know what to do, Judy. Carol made me promise not to tell Santa what I was doing, and now Bernard's probably telling him everything I've done…I'm gonna be SO busted."

"Wait…Mrs. Claus told you not to tell _Santa?"_

Ellington nodded.

"Then there must be a good reason for it," said Judy. "Mrs. Claus wouldn't set you up. Most likely she's already told him herself….and anyway, even if she hasn't, all _you_ have to do is tell Santa that she told you to do it!"

Just then, Archie's voice cut over the loudspeaker. "Attention, attention! An announcement from Santa: the position of Number Two Elf has been filled."

Countless disappointed sighs filled the air, coming from all directions. Apparently many elves had had their eyes and hopes set on a promotion. Ellington raised her head and looked at Judy, horrified.

"The new Number Two will be announced this evening. Thanks for your time, everybody! Happy holidays." That was the end of it.

It suddenly occurred to Ellington that with the position filled she would no longer be needed in the Workshop. Her schedule would go back to the boring one she had had before: in short, trailing after Bernard for days on end. It was more than discouraging.

Without a word, Judy and Ellington rose and headed back to the Workshop. Neither knew why, they both just wanted to get back to work…or in Ellington's case, to now not being able to work.

But when they arrived at the Workshop and stepped inside of its great double doors, they saw an odd sight. All of the elves were standing still, waiting for them. Ellington froze in the doorway, embarrassed to be caught in the headlights during one of the worst moments she had ever had. One elf approached her. "They'll be briefing the new Number Two now," said the elf, whom Ellington remembered was named Margot. She seemed very sad. "We're all sorry that you won't be helping us anymore." She paused to wipe away a tear. "Even though you weren't technically our Number Two, you did more work in a week than Curtis did over the entire period of his tenure. If you hadn't helped us, we wouldn't have had any hope for Christmas this year. And whoever the New Number Two is, he or she won't be as much fun as you. These…these are from all of us. To show our appreciation. " Margot handed Ellington a big bunch of red roses…had Ellington told them these were her favorite?

"Thank you," said Ellington, her voice cracking. She gave a small nod. "I…I need to go to my room," she said, sounding choked. She tried clearing her throat, but it didn't seem to make a difference.

Judy nodded, saying solemnly, "I'll walk you back." It wasn't ever fun walking home alone sad.

They set off through the crowd of elves, all giving Ellington sad looks, through the Workshop where Ellington knew she would no longer be of any use to anyone. She would go back to being the 'thorn in the side' of the Head Elf; nothing more than a nuisance. Someone to shun until the Council finally came to a decision, and she could be sent home. Out of Bernard's curly flop of hair.

Really. She had known Bernard didn't like her much, but it was obvious now that he really hated her. _Loathed_ her. And that hurt, on more than one count. Because she had just finally begun to believe that she could come to terms with _like like-_ing him. But that was all over now.

A ways down the hall, Ellington found her eyes filling with tears. "That was..." She gave Judy a crushed look.

"Oh my," Judy said, a bit taken aback. "Oh my dear girl. I'm so sorry." She could see just how much the job had meant to Ellington, even though she had only been serving in an unofficial capacity.

Ellington had just begun to glumly think of the less interesting things she could spend her time doing at the Pole, when Judy's phone buzzed. She was too preoccupied in her own misery, but Judy, although sympathetic to the hilt, was not under the same emotional strain as the girl. Plus, it was her phone. She picked it up and read the text on screen. She started, and stopped walking to read it again.

It took Ellington a few more steps to realize that Judy wasn't with her. She turned back to see Judy looking very confused. "What is it?"

Judy looked up, seeming very surprised. "Um…Santa wants to see you. In his study. I'm to bring you there immediately."

Ellington didn't know what to think. But she went with Judy, without a single protest.

When they had arrived at the door of the study, Judy seemed worried. "Good luck," she whispered, opening the door for the girl.

Upon stepping into the room, Ellington saw there were three other people there, beside herself. Santa, of course; and Carol. But there, standing ominously by a bookcase, was the person she least wanted to see:

Bernard.

Oh _joy._

It felt like Ellington's stomach had just plummeted below floor level. She looked down after it….at least, that was the idea that came to her mind as her eyes flew to her feet.

"Ellington!" said Carol, rushing over to give her a quick squeeze. "Don't worry; its good news," she whispered in Ellington's ear, and gave her a glowing smile.

Now far beyond confused, Ellington glanced up at Santa. He too was smiling.

Bernard still looked worried.

"Ellington, we've seen the excellent work you've been doing in the Workshop," Santa said. "And even _though_ Carol told you not to tell me what you were up to"–Ellington cringed–"you couldn't have done better if I had given you permission myself."

"Wait…I'm not in trouble?" said Ellington, feeling both relieved and unsettled.

Scott and Carol shared a look. "No," said Santa. "Far from it."

With a sigh, Ellington laughed softly. "Well, _that's good."_

_"_Nice roses," Scott said. Ellington jumped, and looked down at them.

"Oh! I'd forgotten."

"Beautiful," Carol agreed. "Where did you get them?"

Stiffening, Ellington said quietly, "The um, the elves gave them to me. A few minutes ago. As a…parting gift."

"Well, that was a little preemptive," Bernard said with a snort.

Something inside of Ellington snapped. He could take away her happiness, he could snub her until the reindeer came home, but he _would not_ scoff at the elves. "At least they know how to appreciate what others do, instead of treating them like _trash,"_ she snarled. ""But you wouldn't know how to do that, would you? So how about _after_ you completely ruin someone's day, you _don't throw it back in their face!"_

Bernard stared for a moment. What had he just gotten himself into? "Why do you hate me so much?"

"I don't, actually. But I was about to ask you that very question myself."

"I don't hate you!" argued Bernard, appalled.

"Well, you don't like me either," said Ellington. "You _disliked_ dragging me around, and now that I actually did okay without you, doing what _you should have been doing, _you're pissed!"

"Well, on some level, yes! I am…_annoyed_!" This was turning into a fully fledged argument.

"Um, guys…" Santa said cautiously. He was ignored.

"I _knew _it! I only wanted to help, Bernard! It wasn't about you, or your job!"

"Then what was it then? Showing how much more intelligent you are? How much better? Or was it just a chance to float around bossing people like a prima donna/pageant queen?"

Scott sucked air. "Yikes."

"That is totally not true, Bernard," Carol said sharply.

Ellington's jaw dropped. "You," she spat, "are _such an ass._ I can't believe I actually _wanted _to meet you."

"You wanted to _meet _me?" A bitter laugh. "Yeah, right."

"It's true!" cried Ellington angrily. "You were my favorite character, because you weren't always super friendly and chummy with everyone…something that obviously strikes home with me!" She wasn't really sure why she was saying this. "So yes, I did. I was fool enough to think we'd get along, even…but obviously I was wrong. I'm too much of a bore for you to even treat like a human being. And then, on top of everything else, you snitch to _Santa, _and cost me the one thing I was even good at here?"

Whoa whoa whoa," Scott said, holding his hands up in a peacekeeping way. "Bernard didn't snitch. I already knew about what you were doing. Carol showed me yesterday."

Ellington glared, but said, "Well, that's good, I guess. _One_ thing in his favor."

"Bernard came to recommend your being offered a job."

Whipping her head around, Ellington asked, "What?! Yeah right."

"Yes, as a matter of fact I did," Bernard said, with an injured edge in his tone. "I'm not such a monster as you might think."

Ugh, guilt pang.

"Wait." Carol was thoughtful. "Did you hear the loudspeaker announcement?"

"Who didn't?" said Ellington in a small voice. She had gone back to admiring the floorboards.

Scot and Carol exchanged looks, again.

"So you know we've found a new Number Two elf?" said Scott.

"Yes."

"And…you know that your…volunteer position has just been eliminated."

Ellington sighed, fighting off tears yet again. She never cried this much! This sucked. "Yes."

"Well, then," said Santa brightly. "That simplifies things! Do you accept, or not?"

Ellington's brow furrowed in confusion. "Accept what?"

"The job, of course!" Carol laughed. "That was what Bernard came to tell us. Not to steal your position away…but to practically _demand _Scott gives you an actual appointment."

* * *

"What?" Ellington looked at Bernard, who shrugged. Bernard _wanted _her to work with him?

"Not that we hadn't already come to the same conclusion on our own," Scott explained, his eyes shining. "After all, who else could have pulled the Workshop up by its theoretical bootstraps like that? Not Curtis…even if he _hadn't_ been demoted."

"Oh." Still horribly confused, Ellington's eyes narrowed. Where was this going?

"You have no idea what we're talking about, do you?" Carol asked gently.

"Um, not to be rude, but no."

"Ellington," Santa said with a laugh, yet rubbing his temples at the same time, "We _have _found a new Number Two."

"Yes, _I know._"

"It's you."

What the…? "What? Are you _kidding me?!_ This is totally not funny, Santa. Like, at all."

"I'm not kidding! You're the one we want as the Number Two. Obviously you can handle it, so it's really only a matter of your accepting the position."

"But...but…." Ellington stuttered. "I can't, obviously! I'm a _human girl,_ I'm only _seventeen,_ and also, there's the whole thing with my family!"

"We know," said Scott solemnly. ""Ellington, the Council has come up with a solution. Well, Father Time has."

Ellington was stunned. It was about Time…..ooh. Pun. "Well, shoot."

"If you accept the position, we will be able to stabilize the Pole. We will then have enough magic to save your father's life…but only if the stability is maintained."

"And…that means?"

Now Bernard spoke up. "Ellington, if you accept the position… you will have to stay at the Pole permanently."

Speechless, Ellington froze.

"With your father's health restored, he will be able to go back to caring for your mother. You won't be needed for that anymore."

"But…my family. They won't know where I've gone."

Santa looked grim. "Father Time has already agreed to alter history. You will technically have died at birth…your parents will only have two children. All other events will remain the same."

"So…I'll never see my parents again?"

"No."

"And…after Christmas I'll…I'll never see my sisters again?"

Carol was tearing up. "I'm afraid not, dear. Even if you did, they wouldn't remember you."

No more Annise. Ever. Again. She wouldn't even remember Ellington had existed. "Dottie," she said. "Will Dottie be different than she is now?"

"Without you there, Dottie will be less jealous and mean. She will be a major part of your family, and her Christmas spirit will be restored…in fact, it will never have left at all."

Well, that was good. But still… _deep breaths_, Ellington told herself. _Deep breaths. _"But…my dad will be okay?"

"Yes."

There was another option. "What if I don't accept?"

Scott sighed, and ran a hand through his thick white hair. "Mother Nature has examined your father. If magic is not used…he will be dead by February."

The roses tumbled to the ground as Ellington buried her face in her hands.

"I'm so sorry," said Santa quietly.

"Isn't there anything else they can do? Anything easier?" Bernard asked. This was horrifying.

"No. This is our only option left. Especially with the Unknown hindering our magic as it is."

Ellington looked up with a tear streaked face. "What Unknown?"

Bernard came and took her by the elbow, led her out onto the balcony and pointed out over the mountains, at the darkening ice. "That," he said, "Is the Unknown. If we can't stop it, the Pole will be destroyed."

"Well…that's lovely. I knew there was something," Ellington said thoughtfully. "So uh, how do we stop it?"

"We're hoping you can help us find out," said Bernard. But no one had actually said that. It was his own hope.

But…the thing with Bernard…

She turned to the Head Elf. "I won't accept this if we can't agree to…I don't know, work this thing out. Somehow, we're not communicating well, and I, for one, have no idea what you think of me. I can't work with someone who I think hates my guts."

"Neither can I," Bernard agreed. "We've already gotten off on the wrong foot once…I think we just went and made the same mistake twice. We only really talked to each other that one time; I've been so busy that I ignored you. That won't happen again…because it just can't. We're going to be working together; I'm going to have to get to know you. And…" He hesitated before giving her one of those heart melting smiles. "I think I just might enjoy it."

Turning away, Ellington hid her face again (which was good, because she was blushing furiously.) Faced with such an obvious and obviously difficult decision, she really had no choice. She had to follow her gut, as usual, and her gut told her that she needed to sacrifice–the worst sacrifice she could imagine. But there just might be a rose-tint to the storm cloud…

"I'll do it," she whispered. Then she turned back to Santa. "If my family has a chance to be whole and happy again–even without me–I'll do it." She shivered, as a cold breeze came in through the window, "I just…I'm going to be so…alone."

Carol walked over and put her arm around Ellington. "We're here, honey. You'll always have us." And for once, Ellington accepted the hug.

"Plus, you'll be stuck with the world's crabbiest elf for company," Bernard said sarcastically. "It'll be nearly impossible to get rid of me."

"Which I might not find as awful as you're implying," said Ellington, eyes twinkling in a way that made Bernard's head spin.

"But Ellington, please think this through carefully, before accepting the position," Santa warned her. "I would have wanted to, if I'd had a choice to stay here or not. You're not only agreeing to give up your old life. You're agreeing to start a new one here. As Number Two, you will…well…" He couldn't seem to finish his sentence.

"I will' what?" Ellington asked, full of dread.

Bernard was still trying to ignore how weird it made him feel to see Ellington so vulnerable. Almost…protective. Or maybe that was just because she was going to be his Number Two. It was going to be his job to keep her out of harm's way…"You'll become just what you're agreeing to become," finished Bernard. "The Number Two Elf."

It took a moment for this to sink in. "Wait…I'm going to become an _elf?!_"

"Yeesss…" said Santa hesitantly. It was hard to see the girl's expression when her face was buried in Carol's sweater. "It will begin immediately, but the transformation will be complete by midnight on Christmas eve."

But the reaction was promising. Pulling away from Carol, Ellington was smiling–albeit weakly. "Well then. There's the upside."

"Sounds like you're going to be 'Elfin Cinderella'," Carol said in jest.

"Yeah," sniffed Ellington, "only minus the handsome prince."

Bernard rolled his eyes. _Damn, damn damn this Clause!_ She still didn't know how much of a set-up this was. Nobody but him knew; and he was trapped in it too.

And for the third time, Scott and Carol exchanged looks. Maybe she was just missing it.

She wasn't. _We're going to have to be friends, him and I? Just friends? Do you have any idea how hard that's going to be, when you're living for hundreds of years as his Number Two… I mean, right hand girl? Even THAT doesn't sound right…I'm so confused….and Elfin Cinderella?! AUGH!_

It really didn't matter. Ellington's mind was made up; and there, in Santa's study, she signed on the dotted line.

Ellington Connelly, a seventeen year old human girl, was officially the Number Two elf of Santa's Workshop.

* * *

And where was Annise during this long, difficult week; during which Ellington signed away her rights to a human life?

She was making a connection with the sister she would be spending the rest of her childhood with (though she didn't yet know it): Dottie.

It was bad enough that Dottie lacked Christmas spirit; but what was worse was how she didn't want a relationship with her sisters.

As the sweet, caring one of the family, Annise felt it her duty to try and change that.

She had gone to Charlie first. Unfortunately, the cocoa/flirting thing hadn't worked out the way he'd hoped–they'd ended up fighting over what the True Meaning of Christmas was. Dottie held firm to her belief that it was about the kind of presents you got: if the presents were good enough, so was your Christmas. Charlie, on the other hand, having been raised part time in the North Pole, knew that it wasn't about the presents; it was about the people, and the loving, giving spirit of the Season.

Annise believed that someone in particular was the True Spirit of Christmas; but Ellington had taught her not to proselytize others with her beliefs, so she kept this to herself. Instead, she went to convince Dottie of the simplest fact: that she was indeed in Santa's Workshop.

How? By sneaking her out, of course.

It had taken her all week to convince Dottie that it was safe to break out. Because, of course, it wasn't.

"But Nissy," Dottie had whined, using the pet name that Annise _loathed_, "there are kidnappers out there. I've told you a million times: those midgets are evil!"

Annise sighed. "And I've told _you a million times_, Dottie: they're _elves,_ not midgets, not small people, not children. Okay? And they really dislike it when you call them short."

"Well, they are," said Dottie stubbornly. But then she smiled. "But actually, so am I. Five foot two isn't considered very tall where we're from."

"You're right," laughed Annise, who was a whopping five foot for her ten year old self. "But there are some…girls that I want you to meet. You'll like them."

"Is _Charlie_ going to be out there too?"

With an eye roll that was completely Ellington worthy, Annise said, "Yes. Charlie is…the boss' son. You'll see him around."

"Well…okay then." Obviously Dottie had her motivations for leaving her room; but Annise wasn't picky. All she needed to do was get Dottie to take a look at the Workshop, then, she would really understand where she was.

Ellington had been so busy helping the elves clean up the Workshop that she hadn't noticed what Annise was up to; so on Tuesday, when the loudspeaker announcement rang out the news of Ellington's demise, sad though she was for her oldest sister, Annise knew this was her big chance. She had brought a big fluffy pink coat for Dottie to throw on, and dragged her out onto the balcony while the guards were away, paying tribute to Ellington's leadership.

They watched the whole thing.

"What are the midgets…I mean _elves…_doing?" Dottie asked curiously.

Annise gave her a sideways look. The self-correction was an improvement. "They're thanking her for all she's done to help. One of the boss-elves–his name's Curtis; he's a great guy, but a bit accident prone–made a huge mistake that ruined all the toys in the Workshop."

"All of them?" Dottie gasped. She was, thankfully, very gullible.

"Well, most of them. Ellington helped them clean everything up….mainly by showing them what to do. The Head Elf wasn't around to lead them, and Curtis got demoted because of the mistake."

"Ellington sort of does that a lot, doesn't she?" Dottie said. "Show people what to do, I mean. It's pretty annoying. Like, how boring is that?! She never wants to do anything fun! I'd rather be doing pretty much anything else… and, she told me that the Biebs is _stupid._ Like, how screwed up is that? She should be arrested." Dottie had an obsession with Justin Bieber. _Hmmm_, Annise wondered. Was that transferring over to Charlie?

"Yeah, well. This time, she literally helped save Christmas."

"How would you know? It's only November. And anyway, I don't see why you guys care. You celebrate Christmas in _January._"

"Hey!" Annise was getting angry. Dottie could be rude and bitter all she liked, but _nobody_ made fun of her faith. "_You _don't even celebrate Christmas at all, let alone believe in God!"

"Well, no wonder," Dottie snarked. "All you guys ever do is try and shove your stupid 'Christmas cheer' and 'faith' down my throat! It's stupid!"

Annise gasped. "You're gonna be on the Naughty List for sure for that one," she whispered.

"Who cares?" Dottie shrugged. "Naughty List people have more fun."

Annise's face darkened into a scowl. "You're going back to your room," she said angrily. "You can rot there, for all I care! Guards!"

"Big whoop," Dottie said bitterly. "Who would want to wander around this dump, anyway?"

"Pretty much anyone but you," said one of the elves who came to escort her back. To Annise he said, "You realized you're going to be in heaps of trouble for this, right?"

"I had to try," said Annise sadly. "Now I know that it really will take something magical to save Dottie." She watched regretfully as Dottie was led back to her room.

Someone else was watching from the shadows. Having heard his own words come from Dottie's mouth, Jack Frost knew that he had found just the right accomplice–one that would be easy to play.

_Ellington had better watch it, _he thought gleefully. _She'll be completely under my sway in no time flat._

* * *

"Worried?" Bernard asked. As Ellington walked alongside Bernard, towards where she would be presented as the new Number Two, she really was glad that he was being genuinely nice. It was such a relief to her, because she didn't think she could have handled his grouchiness on top of everything else.

"Yeah," Ellington admitted, _about several things._ Annise wasn't the only one worried about faith. Ellington, now facing a seemingly endless life without her family, was wondering if she would be the only Orthodox Christian in the Workshop. _Maybe some of the older elves will be,_ she thought. But that wasn't all. She was nervous; despite knowing that the elves would most likely be very happy to have her, based on their farewell. Because once they knew, she had a whole Workshop of elves keeping her from backing out.

Not that she could back out anyway. Her father's life, and her family's happiness, was at stake.

"Don't be," Bernard said. "You'll do fine. Hey: you really couldn't do much worse than Curtis. Plus, you have the advantage that the elves absolutely adore you." Thank God he was being serious.

"Fine isn't good enough," Ellington said quietly yet firmly. "If I'm going to spend" –she choked– "_forever_ here, doing this, then my work must be my absolute best. I can't live with it any other way."

"Which is exactly why you're the one for this job. So stop worrying." Turning down the hall towards the Main Room, Bernard laughed a little, inwardly. She was practically as obsessed with perfection as he was.

Well, with one exception. She wasn't obsessed with herself.

Bernard didn't know what had come over him when he had asked…well, commanded really, for Ellington to be made Number Two. He knew that he was becoming attracted to her; why would he set himself up like that? He was as bad, if not worse, than Santa and Mrs. Claus!

He just hoped they wouldn't start egging them on, trying to get them 'together'.

Ugh.

His own mind was bad enough.

Because he knew that the real reason wasn't Ellington's skill. It had played a large part, yes; but the deciding factor had been the realization that he didn't want to have to say goodbye to the girl who could change his mind with only cake and a smile.

"Are _you_ worried?" Ellington asked in return.

Bernard smiled–actually smiled at her. "No," he said, and it was true. Despite all of the troubles they were facing, it didn't worry him.

Maybe, just maybe, because 'they' were facing the troubles, not just 'him'.

And by the way the elves cheered when Santa presented her as the new Number Two, Ellington knew that Bernard was right.

Everything, in one way or another, was going to be fine.

* * *

**OH JOY! (Literally.) The romance has begun! **

**I am holding Chapter 7 for ransom: REVIEWS! I have recently checked my story stats, and people! There needs to be more feedback. How can I know how to please my readers without feedback?**

**_JUST LINDSEY _and APPLEJAX XD,**** you two are the only exceptions. You are quite possibly my favorite readers. Thank you both! :) All of you are great though…but I'd love to hear more from the peanut gallery!**

** Oh! That reminds me: **

**ELLINGTON'S CHOICE: The Only Exception, by Paramore**

**Hoping to hear from you soon…all of you! Or most of you! Or some of you…;) heh heh heh**

**-Ana**


	7. Telepathy and Mental Angst

**HAPPY HOLIDAYS!**

**_The Emissary Clause _****has hit over 1,000 views this month! Woot!**

**Ahem.**

**So right off the bat, I want to say: YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME! And have totally earned this chapter, all 6,520 words of it. Honestly, I didn't expect such a response. Thank you, all of you for your kind words and valuable input. A little secret: every time I post a chapter I wonder if you guys are gonna hate it. So it's really nice to hear otherwise. Spurs me on to write more, and quickly!**

**I would like to inform you all that my indecisiveness back in Chapter 1 has been resolved: ****_The Emissary Clause _****will remain T rating. (It wasn't really going to be bad, you know; even if I rated it M was only for precaution. I can't stomach writing lemons or limes about Bernard…****_it's just so wrong!_****) Hooray! I'm changing the intro to Chapter 1 to reflect this. Thank you, XXPay4XtraShippingsXX for reminding me that I even said that; I'd sort of forgotten… /:)**

**And I was happy to hear that ****_Destiny's Gem_**** was interested in my alternate Messageboard fic idea. Any other takers?**

**I don't own ****_The Santa Clause 1, 2, or 3 (_****insert usual disclaimers here.)**

**Also: I am proud to announce that all mistakes are my own. **

**Wait…what did I just say?!**

**o.O oops. **

**So here's Chapter 7. Obviously some more, more intimate E/B moments , the Jack creepiness develops past random hints of future wickedness, and Annise and Curtis have a really cute moment. J In other words, hope you like it. ;)**

**Cheers!**

**-Ana**

**PS this one is looooonng. Let me know if you guys want shorter chapters.**

* * *

7. Telepathy and Mental Angst

ELLINGTON'S CHOICE: Rabbit Heart (Raise It Up) by Florence + the Machine

"Welcome to the family, Ms. Small," Santa had said, as he was assigning her to her position in front of the elves. The elves, who had (thankfully) been overjoyed to learn that Ellington would be Curtis' replacement, had given a big 'Awww,"at this.

Ellington had smiled…and then her eyes had fallen on Annise, standing next to Abby in the crowd. She still had trouble facing the fact that the day would come when she would be forced to say goodbye to that little girl she most loved, forever. Ellington knew that she would find ways to show her sister she cared–like, for starts, making her the best toys ever for Christmas every year–but knowing that she virtually would never have existed was quite a blow for her. After all, she had been an intricate part of her family; now that would be gone forever. Also, she knew, she would have to live through the days when her parents, and sisters, and sisters' children, died. She would never age beyond seventeen years old; had she been any older and she wouldn't have been able to become an elf at all (something Bernard had told her. Only children could become elves; since they were frozen in time upon their transformation, and all the elves looked like children, it was rather apparent. So Ellington was lucky.) But the anticipated pain of that parting was a sharp stab in the chest every time she saw Annise; it made her want to spend more time with her, yet she almost couldn't bear to. She was even grateful that they had become a bit further apart since they had come to the Pole, as calloused as that seemed. It hurt too much to spend too long around Annise, and when she was around her, she needed to be doing something, to distract herself.

Which was yet another reason she was glad to be the Number Two: it kept her busy.

It was actually more fun to work _with_ someone, Ellington found, especially when that someone was Bernard. For some reason, he didn't give her quite as much crap about things as she had expected…maybe it was because of what she was having to give up to stay. It was always hard to tell motivations with Bernard. He had his moments, of course, when he slipped back into his old ways; cutting her off, ignoring her…or treating her like a child. Like when she had been helping Joey with the static-free tinsel (yes that _still_ hadn't been solved.) It only took her half an hour of observing their current efforts to realize that the problem was basic: magnetism. Grabbing up a special kind of hairdryer-like appliance, Ellington negatively polarized an entire barrel of tinsel, and….

Voila.

The guys had thrown a little impromptu party in her honor, right then and there.

But then Bernard decided to be a total party pooper. "Back to work, please!" he had said, pulling Ellington away by the arm. "Ms. Connelly and I have a very busy schedule to keep…and so do you!"

He was a bit jealous of all those boys adoring her like that. Even if they were much too young, physically.

Ellington had stumbled after him, trying not to be annoyed at how he had just commandeered her like a stray reindeer. It was irritating in the extreme…not to mention embarrassing. But she knew that the elves respected her already; it was more embarrassing for _Bernard_ than her_._

Thus it was unexpected that when they had gone out of earshot of the boys, Bernard leaned over and said confidentially, "Thanks for reminding me why I hired you." And, trying something a little daring, he shoved her lightly in the arm.

Ellington rolled her eyes, ignoring the snap of surprise in her stomach. "Oh please. You didn't hire me; Santa did. Santa _always_ selects the Number Two Elf. You're putting a little too much stock in your say."

He considered this. "Maybe," he conceded. Then he looked surprised. "Wait a minute…how did you know that? I never told you about Santa always choosing; neither did Scott. How did you…"

"I don't…know," said Ellington, realizing that she really had no idea how she'd known that. "I just…knew."

Bernard gave her a curious look. "This has happened before, hasn't it?"

Ellington sighed, but said nothing.

"I remember…back when you'd just arrived, you told everyone about how Dorothy would be late. But no one else knew yet, and there was no way you could have known, either," Bernard said. He lowered his voice. "Does this happen at home?"

"Yes," Ellington admitted hesitantly. "It always has…from time to time. Certain things I just…know. And I don't know _how _I know them."

They walked in silence for a bit. Then Bernard said, "If it weren't for that, I'd have thought you were developing your elfish senses. But only very special elves have a gift like that." He looked at her thoughtfully, before repeating, "_Very_ special elves."

With a nod, Ellington wondered to herself if this 'sense' would grow stronger as she transformed.

Bernard was considering the same thing. _I wonder how you'll feel when you have to receive a new name, upon completing your transformation._

"I wouldn't mind it," Ellington said agreeably.

Bernard looked at her sideways. "Mind what?"

"Having my name changed," said Ellington, slightly confused.

"Where did you hear that?" demanded Bernard.

Ellington was disturbed. "Bernard, you just said so."

"No I didn't."

"Yes," Ellington argued, "You did. You said that you wondered how I will feel about having to get a new name when I 'complete my transformation.' Those were your exact words."

"No, I _didn't say that,_" Bernard insisted.

"Bernard…"

"I thought it."

Bernard and Ellington both stopped and stared at one another.

"_Telepath_y?!" Both cried, at almost the same time.

Ellington face palmed. "Oh_ God, _no. I'm SO _weird!"_

"Well, _that _ explains it," Bernard said, sounding a little freaked out, "I've been meaning to ask you something, and it's going to sound a bit strange now, but…is there _honestly_ anything you _can't _do?"

This seemed to make Ellington feel a bit better. She looked up. "Yes," she said, a smirk creeping onto her lips. "I can't tie a cherry stem with my tongue. I always have to cheat and use my fingers."

Bernard gave her an odd look.

"What! You asked."

"Nothing," he said, although he had been thinking, _that's something that can be fixed with a certain amount–and kind– of practice…_

Just before he broke into a cold sweat, realizing that Ellington had probably just heard that.

Ellington raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"I…just thought you should be careful," Bernard lied. "I mean, who knows just how active this telepathy may become as you progress."

"Yeah." Ellington thought back. "Hey…so do I get to pick my new name? Or does it…I dunno, get pulled out of a hat or something?"

"Actually," said Bernard with a smirk. "_I'm_ in charge of picking the names. Santa chooses the final one, but I come up with the ideas."

Ellington's eyes widened in horror. "No…"

"Yep," Bernard said cheerily, a sudden spring to his step. Leverage! "So I would advise you to stay out of my mind. As a general rule. Or you might get stuck with a name like, oh I don't know, _Hildegard."_

"You wouldn't," Ellington whispered. Seeing Bernard's grin, her control snapped and she shoved him in the chest. "Say that you wouldn't!"

To her surprise, Bernard laughed, and held up his hands. "Okay, okay. I wouldn't."

"Promise," Ellington pressed.

"I promise."

"Okay." Ellington smiled in relief. "But hey…does that mean _you _had a different name before _you_ were an elf?"

With no small amount of hesitation, Bernard said. "Yes…"

"Oh my gosh! Really? What was it?" Ellington was bouncing on her toes. "Come_ on, tell _me!"

"_NO."_ Bernard didn't to think of that name. Ugh.

Ellington looked over at him, and cocked her head. Her vision was going fuzzy. Squinting to make up for the poor eyesight, she…suddenly realized she knew the answer.

"Theodulus?!" She burst out, laughing a little.

Bernard jumped, and then turned bright pink. He shot her a furious look. "_Ellington!"_

"Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean to," Ellington laughed. "I must have made you think of it by asking. But…" she snickered. "Theodulus…"

Bernard looked away, embarrassed. "It was the fourth century, Ellington. Everybody had names like that."

"It's not that bad, really," said Ellington fairly. "I'm only laughing because you're so clearly embarrassed about it. Why?"

"Because of…_reasons,_" said Bernard, exasperated. "Now can we drop it? Please?"

"Oh _fine."_ she sighed. "But I feel much better about _my_ future name."

"Um, why?"

Ellington smiled slyly. Well…let's just say that this whole telepathy thing works pretty well for blackmail…_Theodulus_." And she strode off down the hall, allowing him to think this through.

"No…." Bernard moaned. "Ellington!" And as she took off laughing, he chased after her.

Which was an idea that Ellington rather liked, actually.

* * *

Jack was getting impatient.

Sure, he had captured the attention of Dottie (who was obviously enthralled with Charlie Calvin, but was also considering the option of becoming Jack's elf.) But he hadn't gotten any closer to his real interest: Ellington.

The news of her promotion had lit a fire under his heels. Now, knowing that he only had until Christmas to catch her, he decided it was time to step up his game.

Especially given the way she and Bernard were getting a little _too_ chummy for his liking. He had been watching as they ran past, Ellington beaming as Bernard chased after her, rather desperately, it seemed.

So, having for the most part steered clear of the girl, he saw the time had arrived to be more… visibly interested.

He chose to have said encounter in the lunch hall the next day.

* * *

_The next day…_

"Carol, do you notice anything funny about me?" Ellington asked, as she leaned over her vanity to get a closer look in the mirror. "Since yesterday? Especially in the ears."

"Hmmm…I haven't looked very closely. Here, let me see." She came over, Ellington turning to face her with an anxious look on her face.

It took a few seconds to notice it. Then, Mrs. Claus jumped. "Oh! Your…"

"Ears," Ellington finished. "Then it's not just me. They're pointing, aren't they? I thought so." She turned back to the mirror, also noticing the light shimmery glitter on her cheeks that had started to appear there every morning, even when she did her own makeup. "I hadn't expected it to happen so…soon." It made everything even more real.

Mrs. Claus wisely said nothing. She knew there was truly nothing she could say that could make Ellington hurt less than she did; she already knew of all of the benefits that would come from her sacrifice. But it didn't make the pain any less, on her part. So Carol merely set a comforting hand on Ellington's shoulder.

Ellington sighed, and said, "How am I going to hide it from Annise, when it gets worse?"

"Annise won't see it," Mrs. Claus told her. "It's part of the magic. She won't see that you look any different until Christmas eve–and then, only just before she and Dottie leave."

"Oh. Well, that's good."

Carol picked up some pins off the table. "Would you mind if I..?"

"Oh, no, not at all," Ellington said, almost gladly. She still missed Josette very much–they had always been close–and felt the loss of that motherly attention quite keenly.

"Your hair is just so much fun to play with," Carol said. "I don't have any daughters of my own to fuss over–don't get me wrong, I love Buddy with my whole heart…but he's not a girl." She started pinning up Ellington's curls the way Ellington preferred them, wearing a faraway look. "The elves are always perfectly made up, and I suppose you will be too, eventually…but this is nice." She smiled. "For now."

"For now," Ellington repeated, thinking of all the things she had 'for now.' It made her feel sick to think of when 'now' would end.

As if on cue, the door opened, and in came Annise.

"Good morning," she chirped happily, skipping over to where Ellington was sitting. "You look nice."

"And so do you!" Ellington said, pulling Annise into a hug and ignoring the painful feeling in her chest. "How have you been? I've been so busy I've hardly seen you."

"Oh you know, same-o same-o," Annise said casually, then laughed. "I've been having a great time, hanging out with Abby and Curtis, when they're not working. They have opposite shifts, so I usually have someone to spend time with."

"That's good," said Ellington.

"So what's it like, being the Number Two?" Annise suddenly gushed. "Is it hard? Does Bernard give you a lot of crap? Do your feet get tired? Do the elves listen to you?"

Ellington laughed. "Those need a lot of different answers, actually: A little, not as much as I expected, not with good shoes, and yes, for the most part."

"So Bernard isn't crabby with you, like with Curtis?" Annise asked. "Because, I saw you guys yesterday…you looked pretty happy together."

Forcing herself not to blush, Ellington said, "Well, I think for the most part, we're happy enough _in each other's company._" She thought. "But for some reason, we're always crabby with each other in the mornings. I don't know why… it's like we both just tick each other off for a bit, then its okay for the rest of the day."

A loud knock sounded on the door, and who should step in but...

"Speak of the devil," muttered Ellington.

Bernard paused, unsure if Ellington had just called him the devil or was using the term in its metaphorical sense. Almost sure it was the former Bernard forced himself to believe it was the latter.

I've come to pick you up," he said, as if to no one in particular. "Our workday here begins pretty early, so you may want to get used to the idea of early mornings. I've heard you don't like them so much back home."

"You do realize you've said that to me for the past three mornings, right? It's not Groundhog Day," Ellington replied. "And as I've told you the past three days, I enjoy early mornings very much. I just don't find need of them, _where I live._" She wanted to make a point: She _lived _in Hawaii. It wasn't her _home_, by any means.

Bernard clasped his hands behind his back and bounced on his heels impatiently. "Yes, well. I'm afraid we don't have time for technicalities right now."

"Oh really?" Ellington arched an eyebrow. "But I thought that's what we fussed over all day."

"Okay!" Carol clapped her hands. "Out, you two! Off to work! Go! Shoo!"

"Wait," Ellington said. "When is Curtis coming for..."

"CURTIS!" Bernard yelled, somewhat abruptly. Ellington had forced them to patch things up…it was just too weird for Bernard to go on being angry with Curtis, and anyway, Bernard had a new Number Two, so he didn't need to be so snippy with the younger, more accident prone elf anymore.

Or so Ellington had said. Bernard had taken her word for it...grudgingly. So things were still a little tense between the two.

"Here! I'm _right _here," Curtis said, still panting. "_Why _do you have to walk so fast!?"

Bernard ignored this remark, saying, "Annise is with Curtis today. He can show her the Pantograph Room."

"Yes! Finally!" cried Annise in triumph. So far, Annise hadn't been allowed in there. She shared a high five with Curtis, then they proceeded to do a weird little dance that ended with them shaking their butts in a way that had Ellington rolling on the floor laughing…in her mind.

"Okay, did that _seriously_ just happen?" she asked in disbelief.

"I can't _unsee_ that," Bernard moaned, rubbing at his eyes.

"Oh, never mind," said Annise. "You guys are just jealous that _you _don't have a secret handshake yet."

"Yeah, well, if we did, it wouldn't have _butt shaking _in it." Ellington snorted.

"Whatever." Annise rolled her eyes at Curtis like, 'What drags they are.'

Curtis nodded in agreement. "Well, I can't wait to finally show you my old home away from home," he said, nudging Annise. "I missed that place all the time. You should see what I've done with it. Glad to be back, especially," he pretended to lower his voice, "since Bernard can't spend all day yelling at me. And I don't have to spend all day keeping up!" Curtis was surprisingly upbeat about his demotion.

"I _heard _that," said Bernard severely. "Elle… you'll come with me."

Ellington was shocked. So was everyone else in the room. "Did…you just call me _Elle?"_

"Yes." Bernard had steeled himself for this.

"_Why?"_ Ellington didn't like nicknames as a rule. She didn't have one. Not that she really minded Bernard giving her one…but she was still going to give him heck about it.

Bernard opened his mouth to say something, but then cocked his head. His eyebrows shot up, and he reached up to tug at his ear meaningfully.

Ellington shrugged and gave a small smile in acknowledgement.

"Because it suits you," he said finally. That seemed like a safe answer.

"How does it suit me?" Or not…

Bernard tensed. "Umm…"

"Because it's pretty," Curtis announced. "He told me so on the way over."

Bernard shot him a death glare.

"Fair enough," Ellington said, carefully hiding away her happiness. Bernard thought she was pretty.

Day. Made.

She went and kissed Annise on the head. "Be good today. Don't get Curtis into trouble. He gets into enough trouble on his own."

"Hey!" Curtis cried, offended. "I resent that remark!"

"No," Ellington corrected, "you _resemble_ that remark. Now go on. And be good to my sister, or you'll have _me _to deal with. Which will be even less pretty than the not-so-pretty idea you get in your head when I say that."

Curtis cringed. "Yikes. I _hate_ that you tell me that every morning. It puts a damper on the rest of my day!"

"Good. Just making sure I'm doing my job." Ellington watched Annise skip off with Curtis before sighing and joining the Head Elf. "Okay. Your lead, Bernard."

"Right, well." He nodded to Carol. "Mrs. Claus." And he left the room.

Ellington pointed after him, crossing her eyes and puffing out her cheeks, then gagging. Carol laughed quietly and waved her off.

"Nice ears," said Bernard as they set off. He had begun to find her even more attractive since the promotion… those ear points were probably the reason why.

Or at least, that's what he told himself.

"Thanks. It's…an interesting experience. I think it'll be awhile before I'm used to them." Ellington fell into line behind Bernard. "So, where are we going?"

"Breakfast first, if you want," Bernard said. He _was _walking rather quickly. "Are you hungry?"

Fortunately, Ellington was a fast walker herself. "Not really," she said, keeping pace beside him. "I don't usually eat breakfast. Just coffee."

Bernard raised an eyebrow. "You're still going on about the coffee?"

Ellington was _far _from amused. "I'm _seventeen_, Bernard. Not five. I _need_ my morning joe to function properly."

"Okay, just asking, snippy. But if you ask me," he added, "you seem to be functioning well enough _without_ a flood of caffeine in your system. I'm not sure I'd want to see what happens when you _do."_

Ellington chose not to answer this, since he sort of had a point.

They wove through the Workshop, which was glowing with the ambiance of lamplights in the early morning grey. Eventually, they turned onto a long hall, which went on a ways before arriving at the Kitchen. They passed this door, and went into on marked _Dining Hall._

Bernard opened the door (he _was_ gentlemanly enough to _hold_ the door as well) and Ellington passed through, into a circular room that seemed to have many rooms branching off of it. Each held a different type of bakery or kitchen, and in the center of the room were rows of dining tables. Already elves lined the tables and formed rows in front of the various vendors.

Ellington wondered how she had missed this room before…especially considering how much time she had spent in the Kitchen.

Then, she saw several of her cakes on sale, and a long line at that stall stretching down a whole row of tables.

She smiled.

Guiding her to a corner of the room, Bernard said, "I'll be right back. Don't wander off— I don't have time to spare having to find you a second time."

"Again, I'm not _five,_ _sir_," Ellington said with a scowl. "And if I didn't want to be found, you wouldn't find me, plain and simple."

"Whatever. Just wait here." Bernard rolled his eyes and stalked off.  
The cafeteria grew more and more crowded, and Ellington grew more and more impatient as the minutes dragged by. The elves were charming, of course; but they all smiled at her in an odd way that she didn't understand, which bothered her. But Ellington smiled back in a similar way and did her best to look both pretty _and_ smart. An efficient and charming Number Two. Needless to say, she didn't need to try too hard for either.

Twelve minutes later, Bernard returned, carrying two large drinks. "Here," he said passing one to Ellington.

Ellington's eyes shone with excitement. "_Finally,_" she muttered, removing the cap. Her face fell. "Wait. This is still cocoa."

"Of course it is," Bernard scoffed. "You know we don't drink coffee here. I don't know _why_ you bother asking for it."

"Well, pardon my inner Seattleite. Gosh." Ellington didn't hide her disappointment very well. "But thanks, all the same." She sipped her cocoa. "It's really good. For cocoa, I mean, since it's obviously not Judy's…or Abby's. It's just not my usual double shot cappuccino brevet, but I'll survive. _Barely."_ She looked into the swirling steam from her cocoa, and across to where a pretty black haired elf was eyeing her down from a distance, and not exactly in a friendly way. Ellington instantly dubbed her Raven Hair. "Say," she asked slowly, "Do you know her?"

"I know everybody here, Elle," said Bernard, using her new nickname and liking it more each time. "But I don't recognize her. She must be new."

"New. Right," Ellington said, fighting off the urge to shoot her a dirty look. "Well, whoever she is, I don't think she likes me."

Bernard snuck a glance over at the elf. "Oh, I wouldn't say it's anything personal. I think she just wants your job." He walked off.

"You do realize that _makes_ it personal, right?!" Ellington called, exasperated. She went to catch up with him, stealing a backward glance at the Raven Hair. Who, she now noticed, was tracking _Bernard._

_Oh. Shit._

"It's not me," Ellington whispered.

"What?" She was, after all, standing right next to Bernard.

"It's not me," Ellington repeated. "I mean, it _is_ me, but it _isn't _at the same time."

"I don't understand."

"I _know_ you don't." Ellington sighed, and looked up at the ceiling. "She's mad at me, because of _you."_

"Wha…" Bernard turned to look at the elf. Suddenly she was all smiles and waves.

"Get it yet?" asked Ellington, miserably.

"Good grief." Bernard reddened, and took Ellington by the arm. "Come on," he whispered, in her ear in a way that was completely distracting, and he led her out of the room.

But not before Ellington caught a glimpse of Raven Hair, looking _really_ pissed.

"Great," said Ellington when they'd made it out into the hall. "You just made it worse."

"What? How?"

"Oh _come on_, Bernard! You've got to know that much."

Bernard looked totally confused.

"_Okay…._ Maybe you don't know that much." Ellington shook her head. "Gosh. If everyone around here is crushing on you, this is going to be a _lot_ harder than I expected."

"What?"

"Would you _quit saying that!_" Ellington stomped in frustration. "You're almost seventeen _hundred_ years old,_ Bernard!_ You can't act like you don't know when a girl is totally head over heels for you!" Realizing what she'd just said, Ellington paled.

Bernard's brow furrowed as he said, "Fine. Fine! I did know, okay? I know about every, single elf here that is…'crushing on me', as you call it. But I ignore them, because frankly, they don't need encouragement in that regard."

"Right. Cause, me thinkest thou hast enough admirers as it is," said Ellington, nodding back at a group of young blonde elves who were pointing after them, giggling madly.

Bernard sighed. "It's not what you think." Which was true of course. But he wasn't about to tell her _why. _ Bernard wasn't ever seen just strolling around with a girl, human or elfish. Now that Ellington was his Number two instead of Curtis, well...that was going to take some getting used to, for everyone.

And so they spent most of the morning in this way, going around to various rooms and sections of the Workshop as usual, where Bernard checked over many details with a wary eye. By noon, they were in Wrapping. Ellington, whose cocoa was long gone, was beginning to feel peckish. To amuse herself while Bernard was signing various reports and order slips, she looked around at the different wrapping papers and decided what each would taste like. That red one would taste like cherry pie; the green one, peppermint ice cream. Blue was blueberry cheesecake, and brown was her beloved and well missed coffee. She could feel herself dragging already without her morning caffeine boost. Not to mention her _afternoon_ caffeine boost...

"Elle." Bernard was standing, hands on his hips, impatiently.

"What?" Ellington gave him a sideways look. "You really shouldn't do that, Bernard; it makes you look like a teenage prima-donna."

Bernard scowled, but dropped his hands. "Come on. We've got a schedule to keep." And he stalked off again.

"Ugh, _fine!"_ Ellington raced after him. "If Santa asks me if you're doing a good job, I'll be forced to say yes."

"Santa already_ knows _that I do a good job," said Bernard, somewhat haughtily.

"Yeah sure. That's why he made me your Number Two, so that I could _not _help you do your job better."

Bernard shrugged dismissively. But he was also slightly smiling.

"But if Santa asks if you're doing a good job_ as a chaperone,_ well then. Epic fail." Ellington finally caught up by a tower of wrapped boxes. No, literally. It was a spiraling tower of wrapped presents, waiting to be sent to Labeling and Tagging. "Plus, I usually skip breakfast too, but you don't seem to know what lunch is either. And seeing as you're not exactly as slender as a birch rod, I guess you must eat a really big dinner or something."

Bernard whirled around on her. Ellington stopped short—but not before they were standing almost nose to nose. "Are you calling me _fat?"_

Without even flinching, Ellington blinked once, twice. "No. On the contrary, you must be quite fit, to keep a pace like this without lunch."

"Hmm." Bernard narrowed his eyes and assessed her expression. "Did you know," he said, cocking his head to one side, "that elves have a gift, much like your own, Ms. Connelly? You see, elves can tell when you're _lying._"

Still unfazed, yet a little dizzy at the close proximity, Ellington said, "Well then, you must be very glad to see that I'm not calling you fat after all. And that I'm just upset you haven't taken me to lunch yet." She looked up at a wall clock.

As Bernard watched, a strange green light passed over the surface of her retinas—briefly turning them a shade of darker blue green. "Break is at twelve thirty today, isn't it?" she said, looking back at him testily.

Just _before_ the whistle blew for lunch.

Ellington's eyes twinkled. "Called it," she said, cocking her own head the opposite way of Bernard's.

Bernard pursed his lips, trying not to smile. She was irritatingly challenging. And that telepathy definitely wasn't in his favor, either. But somehow, it was funny. They both stood there smirking at each other.

That is, until the rest of the elves, catching sight of them standing so close together, gave a collective gasp. Rumors started whirling around the room.

"Is that Ellington?"

"She's Number Two now, didn't you hear?"

"Of course I heard, silly! Who didn't?"

"They are just _perfect!_"

"Aw, they're so cute!"

"Oh my gosh, is he going to _kiss_ her?"

Embarrassed, Ellington stepped back. "Uh...sorry." All of a sudden, she was terribly shy, the confidence having drained right out of her. She didn't want to be another one of those elves that Bernard 'didn't want to encourage'.

Bernard looked up at the elves, tossing his head in annoyance. "Nothing to see here! Get back to work!"

"But its lunch break," said one elf, a young boy with a kerchief around his neck.

"Then _go to lunch!" _Bernard hollered, grabbing Ellington's hand and nearly dragging her out of the room.

Again.

* * *

ELLINGTON'S CHOICE: Crave You (Adventure Club Remix), By Flight Faculties

"Look, I'm really sorry about that. The elves, they gossip like nobody's business. I never should have let that happen." Bernard had said, as they sat down in the Dining Hall for lunch.

"Tell me something I _don't _know. And don't worry about it. Obviously it's not the worst thing that could happen." Ellington was dejectedly stirring her soup. The whole 'kissing' incident had really brought her down. And it wasn't even her first such incident, either. Curtis had had mechanical/ego incidents; were all of _her_ incidents going to involve _kissing?_

"No, it's not. It's not okay. You see, elves can tell what other elves are thinking, when they try; just like you, but subconsciously only. So that means, I must have been _thinking_ what they were saying!" He was visibly upset. "Wait...unless it was _you?"_

"What? No way! And you know, you gesture a lot when you're upset," Ellington observed.

Bernard gave her an exasperated look.

"Okay, maybe that wasn't very helpful." Ellington sighed, and brushed the curls out of her eyes. "Look, it's not that big of a deal, okay? So some elves thought you were into me for a second. Big deal! And maybe for a second you thought, _gee, I hope this idiot of a girl doesn't try to kiss me, _and they picked up on it."

Affronted, Bernard said, "I would never think that." But not for the reason Ellington thought he wouldn't.

"Okay, so maybe they thought it was me. I don't know. But I don't remember thinking anything like that. At _all._ Just saying."

Jack Frost entered the room, scanning through the crowd until his eyes fell on two particular curly heads… both were visibly upset, but only one adorned the face he most wanted to see: doll faced, cherry lipped Ellington.

And those eyes… light, blue eyes…they were sad today.

"What's wrong?" He crooned, walking up from behind her carrying his own tray. "Trouble at work, you two?"

Ellington rolled her eyes. Great, just what she needed….NOT. "Jack, I don't need your sass today. Go and chill someone else's meal. "

"Ouch," said Jack, ignoring Ellington's not-so subtle hint to buzz off. He slid into the seat next to her. "That was…_cold._ And I should know." Whipping out his manipulative streak like the virtual weapon it was, he turned on Bernard. "Is Mr. Grumpy-pants starting to bring you down_?_ But it's only the first week! _Surely_ you two aren't fighting _already."_

"We're not fighting, Jack," said Bernard wearily. He really just wanted to be alone with Ellington right now… they needed to talk this out without the interference of someone who was bound to be up to mischief.

"Yeah, and stop trying to turn me against him. It's not going to work," Ellington said flatly.

"I don't mean to do anything of the sort, sweetheart," Jack said coyly, touching her hand lightly where it rested on the counter. Ellington pulled back, appalled at how cold his hands were. "I simply don't want to see Mr. Head _Elf_ here misused his new counterpart."

"If he misused me, I'd kick his _ass…_just like I'll kick yours if you don't leave, NOW." Ellington gave him her infamous evil eye.

Jack looked amused. "You _really_ don't like me, do you?"

"That would be an understatement," said Ellington, getting up to ditch her tray and leave, since Jack obviously wasn't going anywhere. When she returned for Bernard, however, she found him talking to Santa…and guess who was at Santa's elbow?

"There's been a security breach," said Raven Hair. She stared Ellington down hatefully, then took a step closer to Bernard in an almost possessive way.

Bernard of course, was completely oblivious to this.

"I'm sorry, do you two know each other?" Santa asked, confused at the tension between his Number Two and the elf who was recognizable by outfit alone as his new Chief of Security.

"We've met…in passing," said Ellington through clenched teeth.

"I'm new," Raven Hair explained, flashing Santa a cutesy smile. "Tabitha."

"Well then," said Bernard. "Let's go. Elle, you coming?"

"NO!" cried Raven Hair–that is, Tabitha. She then recanted saying, "I mean, we really only need you, _Bernard_." The tone in which she said his name made Ellington almost vomit in her mouth. She turned to Ellington with a wicked gleam in her eye. "We wouldn't want to steal the evening of both of our Head Elves, now would we?"

"I don't mind," Ellington said pointedly.

"No she's right," Bernard said with a sigh. "We'll most likely be busy all night anyway." Ellington's stomach felt very cold and unsettled at just what that could imply. "You should get some rest."

Quickly, Tabitha ushered Bernard and Santa away, making sure to cast her own kind of evil eye back at Ellington, who was standing alone and feeling _very _misused.

Her stomach chills grew worse and worse, until, when she lost sight of Bernard's head at the door, she felt so awful that she rushed for the nearest bathroom.

Jack followed behind her, feeling very pleased with himself. Tabitha, the little genius, was playing her angle perfectly. He knew it wouldn't be a mistake to smuggle in one of his own elves for the job.

He waited outside the bathroom while Ellington did a lot more than just vomit in her mouth. In fact by the time she was done she was pretty sure she had even lost her breakfast cocoa. She staggered out of the bathroom in delirium; weak kneed and blurry eyed, and ran smack into…

"Jack," she muttered.

"Hello, sweetheart," he said, putting on of his arms around her. "My goodness! You don't look so well. Do you need help getting back to your room?"

"Y-yes," Ellington stammered. She felt so, so cold…and shaky.

"I think you've caught pneumonia," Jack said, leading her in the proper direction. "You look rather blue. Perhaps a few days in bed would do you good. Rest up, you know?"

"Have to…get back to…work. In the…morning, "Ellington panted, waves of chilling nausea washing over her. Jack's presence felt like a cold blanket.

"Ah, but do you? Even _Bernard_ seemed to think you needed the rest." Ellington doubled over a nearby potted plant and hurled again. "Oh dear, dear me. " Jack suppressed a smile. "It might just be a touch of flu."

Ellington was too weak to speak anymore. She let Jack lead her to her room, ignoring his chatter even as her own teeth chattered. Finally, when she reached her room, she fell against the door trying to let herself in. Jack helped her undo the lock, and led her to her bed, helping her to bundle up under the thick comforter.

"Thank you, Jack," she whispered, as Jack made to leave.

"You're _more_ than welcome," said Jack soothingly, as he stopped to turn up the thermostat. Doubtless she would sleep all evening; all night. By morning, all traces of her chills would be long gone. Nothing to pin him to any of it, except as the rescuer of a damsel in distress whose knight was…well, off with another damsel. He grinned in triumph, and said, "Just sleep. Sweet dreams, dearest." He chuckled quietly, and whispered, "Of how it felt when Bernard left you all alone."

* * *

**Jack, you fiend! *shakes fist***

**Poor Ellington.**

**BTW: in case any of you were wondering:**

**Annise and Curtis' 'Secret' Handshake:**

**1. High five**

**2. Hand slap tower**

**3. Shoot 'em up**

**4. Two counts of the Hokey Pokey**

**5. Polka polka dance move**

**6. Butt shake, and**

**7. Flourish!**

**Lol. Enjoy!**

**Will try to have a chapter up by the nineteenth, in honor of the celebration of Byzantine Orthodox St. Nicholas Day :)**

**Oh, and in the event that I can't finish ****_The Emissary Clause _****by Christmas….are you guys devoted enough to read this after the Big Day? Don't worry; I'm not flaking out. I just think the story will take too long for me to finish before then.**

**Thanks guys! You're the Best.**

** -Ana**


	8. Holidays, Histories, and Hobbits

**Thank you for everyone who reviewed, followed or favorited this past week. You guys are great! :)**

**I SUCK! (Actually, I have a shipload of stuff to do the past few days, and I didn't sleep AT ALL last night writing this, but never mind.) I didn't get this posted by the nineteenth. *single tear* **

**Ah, well. *shrugs***

**Here is the Chapter in honor of St. Nicholas Day. Because of this, there is a segment that relates to Christian themes, historically speaking. It is all in italics; if you don't like it, skip it. It's gonna be throughout the story (as it has been) so be warned.**

**(Insert usual and ****_un_****usual disclaimers here.)**

**Mistakes are all mine. (Dang it!)**

**Okay, now for the Chapter. **

**YAAAAY!**

**Basically, we're going to hear a bit about why Ellington just collapsed in the end of the last chapter, some E/B moments that get pretty personal, including when Bernard (accidentally) ogles Ellington! WHAT?! I know. But it's T, I promise. ;) And we meet… (drumroll please…) HAROLD ISHMAEL!**

**Also: Being a serious Ringer myself, I couldn't resist ****_Destiny's Gem_****'s comment about Bernard being the shortest elf in Mirkwood. XD LMFAO for the rest of the day. Oddly, I already had this idea planned, in honor of the release of ****_The Desolation of Smaug._**

**Lol. Hope you guys like it.**

**Cheers!**

**-Ana**

**P.S. OMGOMGOMG 4 DAYS TO CHRISTMAS, PEOPLE! *faints***

* * *

8. Holidays, Histories, and Hobbits

"Has anyone seen a small, brown bag?" asked Sandman.

The Council was reconvening to finalize the paperwork on Ellington's promotion, as well as to further discuss the topic of the _Unknown…_which although seemed to have stopped growing, wasn't shrinking either. Sandman had been nosing around the Workshop all morning, as if looking for something.

Bernard, who had finally finished with the security breach around four that morning (anomaly, and no real reason for it either) sat with tired lines on his perpetually youthful elfin face. Since this was the last council meeting to deal with Ellington's case, she wasn't allowed to be present, even as the Number Two Elf. So Bernard had left her alone to sleep in. He would have wanted to himself, after yesterday.

"What 'small brown bag'?" asked Mother Nature.

Sandman sighed. "I raided the stash of some Bogeys a few days ago. Nasty things, Bogeys–they give people the most horrible dreams, usually based on the person's worst fears. I confiscated their entire stash of Nightmare dust…and I seem to have misplaced it the last time I was here."

"Where did you see it last?" Santa asked. Lost Nightmare dust was a serious thing.

"Well," said Sandman slowly, "It was in my robe. But I had by robe checked when I arrived."

"Who was in charge of coat checking during the last meeting?" said Easter Bunny.

"It was Jack," Father Time recalled. "I remember because he made a nasty comment about my staff."

"Where is Jack today, Santa?" asked Mother Nature, suspiciously.

"I haven't seen him. But let me ask an elf." He ducked out into the hallway. "George! Hey! Yeah, come here a second." After a hushed conversation with George (a tubby little guy who worked with Quentin) Santa came back looking confused.

"They say nobody's seen him since last night," he said. "Some elves spotted him walking Ellington back to her room…and they say that she looked terribly sick."

"Ellington _sick?_!" said Bernard, alarmed. "But she was fine when we left!"

"I don't know," Santa admitted. "But he told several others that he'd put her to bed because she wasn't feeling well._" _He paled. And for Santa to pale, you _know_ it must be bad. "Something about her feeling _cold."_

"He's got the dust!" cried the Council, almost unanimously.

"He must have given it to her last night," Bernard muttered, his face adapting a panicked look. Then, without any further explanation, he got up and bolted from the Study.

"Wow," said Easter Bunny. "I've never seen us agree on anything so quickly!"

But Santa was looking after Bernard, and wondering if the reason for that reaction had been the lack of sleep, or something else entirely.

Cupid, who of course had a certain kind of insight about these things, chuckled, calling after the Head Elf, "Run, Prince Charming! Go and wake the Sleeping Beauty from her troubled sleep!"

* * *

That night, Ellington dreamt of Bernard for the first time.

She was standing, alone, on an iceberg. Somehow (perhaps it was elfish vision taking over) she could see Bernard, while he and Raven Hair Tabitha went on a date in some human city. Bernard was clearly falling for her, even thought she continued to make terrifying faces at Ellington behind his back. Ellington yelled to him, tried to warn him, but he was too far, and a strong wind was blowing against her and carrying her voice away. The iceberg was freezing cold; and though she was wearing a large fluffy coat, it wouldn't warm her. It was as if the cold came from inside of her, gnawing at her stomach.

And then, she saw Bernard and Tabitha come to a doorway, and look what was hung above them?

Mistletoe.

And just as Bernard was stepping in, Tabitha stepped back, cackling wickedly. A trapdoor opened and swallowed Bernard up.

"Nooo! Bernard!" Ellington cried, waking up drenched in a cold sweat. Or was it a hot sweat? She was too confused to know for sure. Someone's hands grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her firmly. "Ellington! Ellington, _wake up!"_ a voice commanded. She was crying like a baby and could taste the tears in her mouth. She was shaken again.

Slowly, after much blinking, her vision partially cleared. It was Bernard, sitting on her bed and shaking her. He seemed very anxious. "Ellington?" He asked, as if unsure if she had truly woken up.

"But…but you…" muttered Ellington confusedly. She was trembling all over. "S-sorry…just a …bad…f-fricken nightmare." She swiped at her eyes…and then for some, completely not okay reason, she burst out crying again. She wasn't really awake yet. Like, at _all._

Bernard gave her a pitying look. "Oh, Elle." On some sort of unchecked impulse, perhaps to console his weeping and relatively unstable Number Two, Bernard leaned forward and pulled her into a hug.

Oh. My. Gosh. _Is Bernard HUGGING ME?! _ Ellington thought wildly, through her mental fogbank. But then she just went limp and kept crying, burying her face into his shoulder. "Raven Ha…iceberg…and mistletoe was trapdoor," she sobbed into his shirt. "No good…yelling…broken coat…not working…you fell."

Utterly baffled, yet knowing that most nightmares didn't make very much sense, Bernard patted her on the back in a soothing way. "Don't…don't worry," he whispered. "I'm here. It's okay. It wasn't real."

"It was real!" Ellington garbled. "You…left me. Alone…I was so cold….and Jack. Jack helped me."

Realizing that she was confusing her dream in part with the reality of the afternoon before, Bernard felt a terrible pang of guilt. He should have pressed for Ellington to come with them; he had spent most of the night pretending not to notice as that Tabitha person kept flirting desperately, right in front of Santa. It had been _awful_. If Ellington had been there, sure; she would have teased him a bit about the unwanted attention, but her presence alone would have made it more bearable. Then, remembering what she had just said, Bernard tensed. "_Jack_ helped you?"

Ellington sniffed and nodded. "I threw up…twice. Jack helped me get here." And she burrowed her face deeper into the soft folds of his shirt. "I…I lost you."

Looking down at her wild mess of curls, Bernard felt an odd feeling. It wasn't sympathy, or pity, or even protectiveness. It was strange, seeing Ellington like this; so vulnerable. Normally she was strong, unbendable; but this…whatever she had seen in her dream, it had pushed her over the edge. And just then, something in his mind (or perhaps his heart) clicked into place.

He had known before now that he wanted Ellington to be happy. But what he hadn't realized (or perhaps acknowledged) was that _he_ wanted to be the one to truly make that happen. _He _wanted to be the one that made things better, when she stayed.

Yes, something changed had changed in him; shifted, or turned a new way. Suddenly, right there with her crying in his arms, Bernard knew that he was falling in love with Ellington.

And he didn't even want to stop it from happening anymore.

He was _okay_ with it.

It had taken him nearly seventeen hundred years, but he was actually okay with it.

It gave him a warm tingly feeling in his head, a buzz that wasn't terrible in the least.

With a faint smile on his lips, he gently kissed her forehead. "Shhhh," he said. "It's over now. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. Okay?"

When Bernard had kissed her forehead, Ellington felt a bolt of warmth shoot through her, chasing away the last vestiges of the cold inside of her. She felt so peaceful, comfortable there. She stopped crying, but didn't pull away. She wanted this to last as long as possible.

"Okay?"Bernard whispered again, and she shivered…but not from cold.

"Okay," she whispered back, and sighed. "Okay."

They sat there for about a minute and a half, until Ellington, now much more awake and almost fully coherent, realized just what she was doing: clinging to Bernard like he was a lifesaver. Embarrassed beyond all belief, Ellington stiffly pulled away, tensing at how cold even the warm room seemed when not in his arms…ugh, _God_ did that sound mushy.

Annnnd… there she was again.

"Umm…sorry."

"Hey, it's alright. Everybody has nightmares sometimes." Bernard's eyes were exceptionally warm– perhaps in contrast to the last pair of eyes she had seen the night before: Jack's. They were like deep brown pools of chocolate… ugh, _her mind!_ That nightmare had really messed up her head.

But they were sitting so close…and he didn't seem to mind it.

Though, she told herself, her probably didn't think of it in the same light that she did.

He was giving her that adorable lopsided grin.

"What?" Ellington asked, a little more softly than she would have liked to.

"I thought I was the only one who got bed head with curls."

With a horrified gasp, Ellington dove back under the comforter. "Bows and Baubles, my hair! Dammit!"

"Did you just say, 'baubles'?" Bernard chuckled. "Looks like the elfish side really is coming out in you."

"And yet I managed to keep 'dammit' in the sentence too." Ellington, busy rearranging her hair beneath a heavy eiderdown (which is even harder than it sounds) said, "Pass me that hairclip on the night stand, will you?"

Bernard passed the hairclip, and seconds later, Ellington reemerged into the daylight, hair respectably arranged. "Better?"

"Much," he said, absently brushing a curl out of her eyes.

"Good." Ellington rubbed at her face to hide her blush. "So…what time is it?"

"Mmm, about seven thirty."

"Seven _thirty?!"_Ellington shrieked, jumping out of the other side of the bed. "Dammit, dammit, dammit! Do you know what day it is? Annise will _kill _me!"

"Elle, she knows what happened yesterday," Bernard said, watching amusedly as she rushed around, grabbing things off of chairs and from the closet and off the dresser.

She rushed into the bathroom, yelling out, "But today is the eighteenth!"

"And…that _means?"_

"Ugh!" roared Ellington. "You wouldn't know."

* * *

_December 18__th__, 343 A.D._

_In the city of Myra, of Lycia in Asia Minor (modern day Turkey)_

_The bishop of Myra had lain abed sick for many weeks._

_It was well known that the hierarch's strength was failing. No one expected him to see out the week, and all were heartbroken at the thought of being separated from their beloved Father. But none more than the youth (young man, by the currently acceptable age of maturity) who sat outside of the Bishop's bedchambers, his curly head resting in his hands._

_He had been an infant when he had been found by the saint, abandoned in the cold; in a city full of people too busy to notice a little Jewish baby crying in the gutter. But Nicholas had heard him._

_The newly appointed Bishop of Myra had taken the child home, cared for him and raised him up as a good Christian. As a child, Theodulus had been teased for being an orphan–it was obvious that he was actually the Bishop's __son__–but he still loved the saint as a son would his father, because that was the reciprocation of Nicholas' attitude towards the boy._

_And so Theodulus had been raised in the home of a saint; and, when he had grown old enough to, assisted Nicholas in his many acts of charity. This brought him much joy. All in the church loved him, as he was sweet, and kind; yet he had a fiery streak of temperament that may attributed to Nicholas' influence (after all, it had been their own Bishop who had struck the heretic Arius across the cheek in righteous anger at the Ecumenical Council of 325.) Besides this, Theodulus was a handsome young man; but people his own age shunned him, and it grew obvious that no girl would ever wish to marry 'Nicholas' orphan'. _

_Nicholas had taught him to bear the reproach of others with patience and humility, accepting all for the glory of God. But now, faced with the approach of Nicholas' death, Theodulus was lost. What would he do when the one person who truly cared about him was gone? He was barely an adult; how would he survive in a city that knew him well, yet rejected him as an unworthy citizen?_

_A priest came out of the Bishop's quarters, and addressed the young man. "Theodulus," he said solemnly. "His holiness wishes to see you now."_

_Theodulus nodded, and swiped roughly at his eyes with his sleeve before rising and entering the darkened room where the Bishop lay. _

_"Father Nicholas?" Theodulus called, into the darkness. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the poor light before he noticed a small candle burning in the corner, beside the bed._

_"I am here," Nicholas said. His hands rested atop the blanket, one holding a long knotted rope used for silent prayer. The room was peaceful; no doubt the saintly man had been filling it with intercessions for his flock, which would soon be leaderless amid the tumult of the times. _

_Walking quietly, Theodulus came and sat beside the man of God. "Are you leaving us now, Father?" he asked sorrowfully. His eyes began to fill with tears again, at the sight of his elder's pale face. _

_"No, not just yet," Nicholas replied, smiling gently. "I wouldn't depart this life without speaking to you one last time, my dear Theodulus." With much effort, he reached out and took the hand of the young man. "You have been a constant help to me in all things, but especially in the giving of alms and assistance of the needy."_

_"And what will I do when you are gone?" Theodulus asked tearfully. "You have told me before that you wish for me to continue to live in the way of the righteous, and multiply the good works which we fulfilled during your time on this earth. But it will not be the same. You will not be here to lead me. I do not wish to remain without the leadership of the one who has been like unto a father to me."_

_The Bishop sighed. "And you have been likened as a son unto me. But Theodulus; I tell you that tomorrow I depart from this temporal life, and lest you heed me in this my instruction to you, you may fall away into despair and sadness. For unto giving you are accustomed, and in it you find much joy. Do not cease to do that which is pleasing in the sight of the Lord because of me, a sinner."_

_"How could I be sadder than I am upon hearing of your departure?" said Theodulus. "If only I could go with you, away out of this world, I should be happy again. But I am not worthy to pass with you out of this life."_

_Nicholas sat silently, praying for consolation for his beloved spiritual child. And then, in his heart, he heard a voice, The Voice, telling him what would come to pass. A gleam crept into the eyes of the saint. "Perhaps you do not yet need to be parted from me after all." He sat silently for a moment, before continuing, "The Lord has told me that you will come with me, Theodulus; because of your loyalty and obedience in serving Him. How this will come to pass, I do not know; but trust in the Lord, and he will see that we are united again in a very short while. You shall not die; no, that much has been revealed to me. He will take you away from here, away from Myra in a miraculous way, to a place very far north. There you will help me further, Theodulus; for my service to others does not end in my death. Rather, I may begin to assist those in need with greater aptitude, even unto the ends of the earth."_

_Hearing these words from the mouth of Nicholas, Theodulus' face grew joyous. "Then I shall not despair any further, Father; for if you have seen this, surely it shall come to pass." And he was troubled no longer, his heart having been lightened of its burden._

_The next day, the Bishop Nicholas reposed in the Lord. And on the third day after his burial, the Saint appeared to Theodulus, and took him away as he had prophesied. _

_No one ever heard of Theodulus again. Some were glad to have him gone; but it didn't matter, because Theodulus as he had been before ceased to exist. On that day, Christmas Eve of 344, he was changed into the First Elf, and was given the name he would bear in his new life…_

* * *

"Bernard!" Ellington was calling from the bathroom.

"Yeah," Bernard hollered back. "What is it?"

"What's going on out there? Has anyone bothered to find Jack?" Her sounding a bit muffled, Bernard guessed that Ellington was getting dressed.

"Nobody's seen him; but I'm sure the Council has sent out search parties by now."

"I can't _believe_ I fell for his crap last night!" Ellington was irate. "After I gave him that whole lecture about hating his guts, he played me for a fool! I'm so totally pissed about it!"

"Yeah, I can tell," Bernard laughed.

Ellington poked her head out of the doorway. "Are you laughing at me?"

Bernard shook his head. "Nope."

"Are you _sure?_"

"Yes. Now you should probably finish getting dressed."

With a sideways look, Ellington pulled back into the bathroom. "You should leave now."

"Why?" He found he didn't really want to go.

"Because, I accidentally forgot my pants in the closet, and I'm not one for streaking past my _boss_! Now _GO!"_

_"_Alright, alright. I'm going." Getting up off the bed, Bernard crossed the room to the door, absently glancing in the direction of the bathroom. Heat shot to his cheeks when he saw, through a crack in the door, Ellington's half dressed reflection in the mirror. She was looking the other way, but that didn't stop him from bolting out the door as quickly as he could, knowing that she would never forgive him if she caught him peeking.

* * *

Bernard exited the room to find the entire Council waiting outside the door.

"Well, how'd it go?" asked Easter Bunny.

"Is she okay?" Mother Nature.

"She had an awful nightmare, like we thought," "Bernard said, blinking rapidly and trying to get over the fact that he'd just seen Ellington partially naked, though thankfully she had been _decently_ covered. "But she's fine now."

Cupid wasn't fooled for a second. "Oh_ really?"_ he said, giving Bernard a knowing look. "_Just_ fine? Like _you're_ JUST fine?"

Bernard scowled. He already felt like a stupid Peeping Tom; the little _cherub_ didn't need to rub it in.

Santa was confused. "Wha…"

"Oh, never mind," grumped Bernard irritably. Leave it to Legendary Figures to make everything _super_ awkward.

Curtis came tramping up with Annise.

"Is she okay?!" cried Annise worriedly. "We came as soon as we'd heard! Did Jack frost her?!"

Bernard held up his hands. "Whoa, whoa! No; Jack didn't frost her. She's fine, just had a bad dream. You can go in and see her if you want to."

Annise was visibly relieved, and took him up on the offer at once. She opened the door and went in.

"Ellington!"

"I'm getting dressed, hold on!" was heard just before the door clicked closed.

"If you'll excuse me, I have to get back to work. The Council will have to continue without me," said Bernard, and he stepped off down the hall purposefully. He didn't need to stick around to be barraged with embarrassing questions that he didn't plan to answer anyway.

The entire Council exchanged looks.

"Did Bernard seem a bit odd to you just now?" Mother Nature wondered, as they looked after him.

"Not at all," said Cupid, laughing inwardly at their oblivion. "Not. At. All."

* * *

And where was Jack Frost during the unraveling of his nasty, cold hearted plot?

Eavesdropping, just around the corner from Ellington's room.

Feeling pretty put out that his plan had been so easily thwarted, he skulked away rather unhappily, to the one place he knew he could find what he needed to put things back the way he wanted: Santa's coat closet.

Because what better tool to have to win a stubborn girl's heart, then Father Time's pocket-watch?

The ability to change a timeline is always handy.

But he knew he would have to lay low awhile before starting anything new, on his part.

Because Ellington wasn't going to be glad to see him, until he did something redeeming.

* * *

"You do remember what today is, don't you?" Ellington said to Annise. She had just finished getting dressed.

"Whatever it is, it must be good," said Annise. "You've been humming all morning."

Ellington paused. "I have?"

"Yup."

"Huh." Ellington shrugged lightly. She didn't want to appear too out of sorts; raise any suspicions. Because if Annise found out, she would tell Curtis, who would tell Judy, who would tell Abby, who would tell _everybody…_

Besides, Ellington wasn't entirely sure what it all meant just yet. It had only been a kiss on the forehead, but…

"Yes; of _course _I know what today is!" Annise said, bouncing in place. "St. Nicholas Day eve."

"Of course you do," Ellington repeated. "You've been counting down to it since March." Literally. _March._

"Tonight is the night that children all around the world put out their stockings, for St. Nicholas to put presents in," said Annise in a mystical monotone. "All of the good little children will get presents, and all the _bad _children will get…"

"Coal." It was even more amazing to Ellington now how those customs had become so intertwined with Christmas itself. "I wonder if Santa knows about today."

"He has to, doesn't he? After all, St. Nicholas _was_ the original Santa."

"I don't know."

"Bernard's really old," Annise observed. "Do you think _he _knew St. Nicholas?"

"I'll ask him," Ellington promised. That _would _be an interesting conversation…especially with only one week left to Christmas. "Actually, _we _can ask him. I want you to tag along with me today."

"Really?!" Annise was glowing. "I can come with you? For a whole day?" She paused, worried. "Do you think Bernard will mind much?"

Ellington snorted. "That old fart can just suck on a lemon if he doesn't like my little sister hanging out with me on a day like this." Annise giggled madly at this. "Besides, it's not like I'll work less hard because you're there. He knows me well enough by now to know that. Besides, due to the up in production, we've already exceeded quotas."

"So, when do we leave?"

"Well, right now…if you can keep up, you little Hobbit!" said Ellington, chasing a giggling Annise out of the room.

"Don't remind me," groaned Annise. Ellington had spent a good part of the 13th grousing because she couldn't get to a theater to see _The Desolation of Smaug._

"Well, at least I didn't call you a dwarf." The girls had watched all of _The Lord of the Rings_ movies in extended edition numerous times.

"If I'm a hobbit, then…you're an elf!" cried Annise, obliviously. "Arwen's crabby sister, or something."

Ellington broke out in a cold sweat, and laughed nervously."Hey, watch it missy." She had forgotten about her obsession with the elves of Middle Earth. She lunged and tickled her younger sister.

"Wait wait wait!" Annise laughed. "Now you're forgetting something."

"I am?"

"Duh!" Annise trotted back into the bedroom and pulled out a bag from under a chair. "I asked Mackenzie to run home and grab these for us." Out of the bag she pulled two stuffed animals: a ladybug and a panda bear.

"Harold Ishmael!" cried Ellington, taking one.

"Yup. He's your dare this year."

Ellington face palmed. "Oh. _That _duh."

"You have to walk around the Workshop all day with Harold Ishmael hanging off of your bag," said Annise with ceremonious solemnity. "Or face the punishment of: either endless tickling, or the Suicide Dare."

"What's the Suicide Dare this year?" Ellington asked with an eye roll. It wasn't a dare to commit suicide; rather, it was a dare that ended in your being utterly humiliated.

"I haven't decided yet." Annise put the toys back in the bag. "But it's gonna be good!"

"Yeah, well, so is the party I planned."

"PARTY?! You're throwing a _party!?"_

Ellington laughed. "You're gonna love it."

It hurt to have fun with Annise, knowing that this would indeed be their last St. Nicholas Day together–_ever_–but Ellington knew that she owed it to Annise to give her the best day she could.

And she knew that she would never, ever forgive herself if she didn't.

Ellington and Annise sang on their way to Bernard's office. Ellington had a really good voice; but she never sang unless she was alone…or when Annise prodded her to the brink of madness. Annise had a sweet little soprano voice that was absolutely angelic. Ellington knew she would miss hearing it every day. So she accepted Annise's challenge to sing, since, oddly enough, the hallway Bernard's office was located on was deathly still that morning. They sang the song they always sang on that morning:

_O who loves Nicholas the saintly?_

_O who serves Nicholas the saintly?_

_Him will Nicholas receive_

_And give help in time of need,_

_Holy Father Nicholas!_

_O who dwells in God's holy mansions,_

_Is our help on the land and oceans?_

_He will guard us from all ills,_

_Keep us pure and free from sins,_

_Holy Father Nicholas!_

_Holy saint, hearken to our prayers,_

_Let not life drive us to despair._

_All our efforts shall not wane,_

_Singing praises to thy name, _

_HOLY FATHER NICHOLAS!_

It was an antiquated song, out of Russia many centuries before; but many Orthodox children like Ellington and Annise sung it every year on the day commemorating the repose of the much beloved saint. Since he was the patron saint of both children and maidens, Ellington especially loved him; and Annise literally _did_ countdown to December 19th every year, as far back as the spring. Because unexplainable gifts really _did _show up under their Christmas tree that day… even when Ellington locked and booby trapped her parents into their room, like she had made a habit of doing. Each year the traps were different, she had hidden a running camcorder, and there was only one entrance to her parent's room…yet every year, the gifts appeared, as if by magic, under the tree. And they were from places that their parents couldn't have gotten them, of a quality that, being the poor farmer type that they now were, couldn't have afforded.

They were laughing now, joking around about The Hobbit more than they should have been. By the time they reached Bernard's office, they were in hysterics.

Ellington knocked on the door, doubled over laughing.

"Come in."

Annise and Ellington stumbled in laughing. Bernard looked up from his desk in surprise. Whatever he'd been doing, he'd thrown a cloth over the table. Neither girl noticed a portion of the wall behind him clicking into place.

"Um, what's so funny?" Bernard asked, confused.

"Nothing," said Ellington breathlessly. "Nothing at all."

Annise was looking at Bernard with her head cocked. "Aha! I just thought of the Suicide Dare."

"_Suicide_ Dare?" To Bernard, that sounded more than a little bit alarming.

"Yeah. Every year, Ellington has to either do something stupid that I tell her, or something totally humiliating."

"Ugh, tell me the Dare already," Ellington moaned. Oddly, Annise came over and whispered it in her ear. Ellington was a bit nervous with her that close to her new, fully pointed ears, but her sister didn't seem to see it. Thank _God_ for that magic.

But soon Ellington turned bright red. "What? No!"

Annise fell into cackles. "Oh _yes."_

"You….you _suck,_" Ellington said irritably. "Now give me the bag."

"Aww man. You're not gonna take the Dare? Too bad."

"You little ferret. Pass me Harold."

"Harold?" Bernard asked.

Annise took the toy from her bag and passed it to Ellington. "This," said Ellington, "Is Harold Ishmael."

"But…that's a _panda bear_," said Bernard cynically.

"He's a bi-racial panda bear!" Ellington argued. "Asian on the outside, Jewish on the inside. He…was a gift."

"The Dare is part of the celebration! Well, for _Elle_ and me," Annise said, trying out Ellington's nickname. It got her a glare.

"Anndd…why is this? Why the celebration?"

Ellington suddenly didn't want him to know why, which didn't make sense. She didn't _hide_ her beliefs from anyone…but she didn't broadcast them either.

"Because it's St. Nicholas Day!" Annise said enthusiastically. "Well, tomorrow anyway."

Bernard jumped, and looked at Ellington; but she was staring at the floor.

"I _think_ you're confused, Annise," he said to the little girl. "St. Nicholas Day is on the _sixth_ of December."

"No," Annise insisted. "For us, it's today. Our church uses the old calendar."

"Old calenda…you don't mean the Gregorian calendar?"

"You know Bernard: the calendar change that occurred hundreds of years ago, that moved the date of the New Year by thirteen days. It's why we celebrate St. Nicholas Day on the 19h, instead of the 6th like everybody else."

"I see. And…just what church are we talking about here?"

Ellington was tuning the conversation out. It was embarrassing her for some reason. She wasn't embarrassed of her faith, but talking about it with Bernard felt…weird. Like he knew more about all of it than she did.

Which was probably true; she thought. But she wasn't sure how he felt about it. Nothing had been mentioned in the movies about whether the elves were religious or not, and so far, she had been busy with Council meetings on Sundays and also hadn't seen any churches about. So she wasn't sure how the topic was dealt with in the Pole.

"Annise, why don't you run along and get some breakfast," Ellington said abruptly, cutting off her sister from replying.

Annise frowned. "But Bernard was asking…"

"Please, just…give me a minute, okay?"

Annise reluctantly turned and left, muttering, "Suicide Dare for _sure._"

As soon as the door had closed, Bernard said, "What was that about?"

"I just…don't think she should be talking about stuff she doesn't know much about."

"Uh, hmm. So you're saying she doesn't know much about her own faith?" Bernard wasn't convinced.

"No. I just don't think she needs to feel like she has to defend her faith today. Of all days." Ellington didn't want to have her sister feeling out of place, or weird. After all, their church was very small.

"What diocese are you under?" Bernard asked casually.

So casually that Ellington thoughtlessly answered, "RTOC. Wait…" She turned to him, her jaw dropping."How did you..?"

"As you've pointed out before, Elle, I'm seventeen _hundred_ years old. When I was your age, Orthodoxy was the _only_ form of Christianity." Bernard smiled. "Besides, the whole Gregorian calendar thing is a dead giveaway."

"So…that doesn't bother you?" Ellington asked, a bit shyly.

"_Bother_ me?" Bernard scoffed, his eyes shining. "Elle, I–"

A knock sounded on the door.

For some reason, Bernard didn't answer it. Ellington looked up, and saw the warm, joyous and almost yearning expression on Bernard's face. She had just opened her mouth to say something, when the door rudely burst open.

It was Curtis, of course.

Bernard's irritation was barely contained. "When did this _stop_ being a private office?" He barked at him. "I am in the _middle_ of something _very_ important!"

Curtis flinched, and said, "Sorry, sorry."

Hearing Bernard say that what they were talking about was very important was empowering. Ellington (somewhat daringly) stepped forward and laid a hand on Bernard's arm. "Hey," she said, in a comforting way. "Relax." Turning to Curtis, she asked, "What is it, Curtis?"

"Actually, I was coming for you," Curtis said to her. "The Dining Hall has been appropriately rearranged. Can we get into our costumes now?"

"Costumes?" asked Bernard. Having Ellington on his arm made him oddly pleasant again.

Ellington suppressed a smile. "Yeah, Curtis. We'll be along soon."

"Yes!" Curtis punched a fist in the air in excitement and ran out, slamming the door behind him.

"I should probably go now," Ellington said, a bit reluctantly. She didn't really want to leave Bernard's side, but she pulled away anyway…

"Wait, I–" Bernard tugging her back a little too quickly, Ellington tumbled against him, their faces inches apart…no, less than inches….

"Um…" Blushing, Ellington found her hands were on his chest. "I…."

"My fault," Bernard said quietly, his eyes wide. "It was my fault. Sorry." He loosened his grip on her arms, but didn't take a step back.

They stood there for about a minute, just looking in each other's eyes…

Before they realized what they were doing.

Nervously, Ellington stepped away before Bernard could. She didn't think she could bear to feel him pull away. "I've…got to go and get ready. Your costume is in the closet." She pointed to the closet in the corner of the room.

"My…costume?" said Bernard. He felt empty without her close: not that this was not the first time they had been this close, but somehow, it felt familiar with her.

"Yeah. You're coming aren't you?" asked Ellington anxiously.

Bernard smiled. "Sure. Why not? We've finished this year's toys with a week to spare; I'd say that's worth celebrating."

"Good. See you in a bit then." And she went out, pretty quickly.

It had been lovely, being so near. It had also been incredibly awkward. Hopefully, there would be a chance in future for that to change…Annise was in on it now, which meant soon, almost everyone would be. Her Suicide Dare this year? Either 'wear the bear', or catch Bernard under some mistletoe.

After her nightmare, she was _definitely _with Harold.

Now, Ellington had a party to prepare for. Her own costume was waiting in the wings, and she was wondering just how annoyed Bernard would be to see his own.

What? It was well known that he had the eyes for it…if _not_ the hair. But a wig could easily fix that.

After she had left, Bernard went back to his chair and sighed. He had wanted to tell her about…well, everything; after all, Curtis had known about his faith from the beginning. And Bernard wasn't the only one left in the Pole who was Orthodox, either. But in the end, it had become more of a cultural heritage than a religion to the elves who were; only Bernard really maintained a 'religious' status. But he never _told _anybody. He didn't want to give anyone the chance to tease him about how 'outdated' he was. To him, faith was something you didn't just give up or put away…especially when, in your past life, you had been brought up by St. Nicholas.

* * *

**OMFG! Was that totally boring? I'm not sure…ugh, don't be mean to me! I just had to write this side of things; from what I can tell, nobody's done it before and frankly, in my book, Christmas means more than just presents. Annnd I wanted to try to write a dated piece too…and tie in the history of Santa Claus a bit. So sorry if that was a snooze fest.**

**Also, I use the term 'Bogey' loosely.**

**_Anyway, _****in the next chapter, we'll see Ellington's party (which is gonna be awesome) and deal with Jack, who makes a really stupid, yet kind of genius decision. (Hopefully ****_that _****was vague enough XD)**

**And Tabitha ****_may_**** just show up when Ellington least wants her to. **

**So somebody guess what the party theme is. ;)**

**No really. Just because I'm not holding chapters hostage doesn't mean I don't LOVE reviews. Let me know what you thought. Please! Consider it an early Christmas gift.**

**Thanks guys!**

**All the Best, **

**-Ana**

**P.S. Harold Ishmael helped me write this by supporting my right elbow. Yes, he's real. :)**


	9. S Happens

***hollers* MERRY CHRISTMAS!**

**Lol. I love today.**

**OBVIOUSLY!**

**Yeah yeah, okay. Sorry everyone I bored to DEATH with that last chapter (except for Applejax XD, who is still awesome, and ****_Michele_****, who totally made my day. Thank you!) Is everybody busy with Christmas? Or was that chapter a complete miss? (Yikes...rhyme.) I dunno. Hopefully you won't mind a little more LoTR weirdness, then back to Christmassy-ness. And****_ finally_**** we get to the bottom of all of the issues. **

**As for the chapter title, well...PPMF (Please Pardon My French).**

**Lol.**

**Merry Christmas, guys.**

**-Ana**

**P.S. please pardon my phonetically spelled phrases, particularly Arwen's. In the movie subtitles, it just says the English translation, and i didn't Google. (For shame!) Lol feeling like a noob.**

9. Shit Happens

It only took Ellington a few minutes of looking things over to realize that everything was absolutely perfect. That was one of the bonuses to living in the North Pole: whenever there was a party, you could be sure a team of expert decorators had been there. It showed!

She had wanted to throw a pre-Christmas eve party; knowing how hard that day would be made her wish for a day and a party when she wouldn't have to think about the loss of her _entire_ family. Being the Number Two elf definitely had its perks; Santa had granted her request almost before it had come out of her mouth. She knew that he, Mrs. Claus and the rest of the Legendary Figures (well, barring Jack, most likely) felt simply awful about the turn of events, but that was that. The sacrifice had to be made, or...

Ellington didn't like to think about the alternative.

Annise had been taken back to her room, to change into her 'costume'. Now, with her morning rounds done, Ellington went to put on her own, wondering what Bernard's reaction would be to his costume, and wishing she could be there to see it...when he was still fully dressed of course.

Why had that even occurred to her?

Ugh!

Bernard was busy, and so quickly forgot what she had said about the party; instead, he mulled over the events of the morning, while finishing some boring end-of-year paperwork that he hoped to spare Ellington the hassle of. He felt released, somehow, having let himself off the hook for _like-liking _her. He had been so opposed the idea of actually _obeying_ The Emissary Clause that he had intentionally blinded himself to his own feelings...not that he had done a particularly good job of it, he had constantly been slipping up. But he _had_ made a conscious effort of not showing any affection, and now, _not _doing the same thing was just as (if not far more) easy. He was good at being crabby; but it seemed natural to be friendly with her...even though he was feeling a lot more than just 'friendly' himself.

Because that was the odd thing about Ellington, Bernard realized. From the other girls (not least of which was that new elf Tabitha) he could sense when they were 'crushing on him', as Ellington had called it. He had secret senses not unlike hers: he too had a slight telepathy, but also, he just knew things through the magic of being the Head Elf. However from Ellington, his own Number Two, he just got...well, a confusing array of colorful emotions, but nothing concretely 'romantic'.

Perhaps, he thought, that would be something to ask Cupid about. That, and how to actually _show_ more than just friendly intent in a relationship that has so far been strictly platonic.

Judy stuck her head in the door. "Bernard! What are you doing?! The party's starting in twenty minutes!"

"Oh, um...right!" Bernard stood up in a hurry. "Thanks." Then he remembered something. "Wait, Judy!"

Judy came back. "Yes?"

"Could you let Elle—I mean, Ellington, know that the Reports have been closed, so she doesn't have to worry about them?"

"Sure," said Judy pleasantly. "I'll tell her as soon as I see her."

"Thank you."

"No problem. Don't forget to wear your costume! _Elle _would be terribly disappointed." Judy went out grinning, her long, flowing costume trailing behind her. It was why she'd been careful to only let Bernard see her head...she didn't want to spoil the surprise.

Wondering what she meant, then suddenly remembering what Ellington had said about his 'costume,' Bernard went to the closet and pulled open the doors. All of the coats and such had been removed, so that only a single outfit hung on a hanger.

He scowled.

"Oh, God no," Bernard said, fingering the fabric. He recognized it, of course. "Not _just _a Trekkie," he muttered miserably. Leave it to Ellington...

"Eem Arwen teleen lethiade," Judy announced mystically as she entered the room. "Losto bethneen tolodon un galad."

The rest of the partygoers all gave an admiring cry. Someone (it was actually the guy Judy was dating) who was dressed as Aragorn nearly fainted. They were all elves underneath their costumes, of course; but in those costumes they could become quite a convincing crowd of of elves, dwarves, hobbits and men. With an awesome set having been built right there in the Dining Hall, Middle Earth had come to life in the North Pole.

Already, the more prominent members of the 'cast' had begun to arrive. Father Time made an excellent Gandalf, Curtis was tromping around happily in his Gimli outfit, Carol was dressed up as Eowyn, and believe it or not, when he transformed into his 'young' self, Scott really did make a convincing Faramir. Mother Nature insisted that she was the scenery, which was believable as she had changed into a dress that did in fact look like the topography of Middle Earth. Sandman and Tooth Fairy had places to be and so unfortunately couldn't be present, but Easter Bunny, who couldn't find an outfit that worked for him, was helping with the catering. Jack was nowhere to be seen.

Soon, Annise came in with Abby. Abby wore an 'elven' outfit, but it was Annise who really made some jaws drop.

Curtis' most notably.

Because Annise was absolutely _perfect_ as Lady Galadriel.

The elves rang out in another round of applause and cheers, which made Annise blush. Curtis came up and offered her his arm, and she took it. They were absolutely _adorable,_ the rumors spun. And soon people were wondering where Bernard and Ellington were. _More_ rumors began to circulate.

Finally, Bernard appeared in the doorway. The room fell silent.

He had done it for _Elle,_ he reminded himself.

Just beforethe entire party yelled, as_ Elle _had told them to,

"Hail, Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of Mirkwood!"

Bernard scowled.

Unfortunately Tabitha skimmed in behind him, dressed as some sort of princess.

"And who are _you, _exactly?" asked Judy, a bit sternly. She knew what the new girl was up to, and didn't like the element of rivalry that was going on between her and Ellington. Half of the Workshop was rooting for Bernard and Ellington...and that was only the half that weren't private about it. But they were all careful not to let the two Head Elfs learn of the little betting ring going on behind their backs.

"I," said Tabitha quite pompously, "am Luthien Tinuviel."

Confused stares.

"Arwen's predesssor? The most beautiful elven maiden who ever lived?"

"Oh,_ that's_ not modest or anything," Scott muttered to Carol.

"You're not in the movies," Bernard said finally. The rest of the party gave him an odd look. Nobody had known he'd seen the movies before. "You're in the books. But Luthien Tinuviel was in the song Aragorn sang to Frodo on the road to Rivendell."

"Exactly!" Tabitha gushed, suddenly clinging to Bernard's arm. "I should have _known_ you would recognize me, _Bernard."_

Several people audibly gagged.

"Where is Ellington?" Scott called, looking over the crowd. "Ellington!"

"Coming, coming! Good grief," echoed in from the hallway. Soon Ellington ran in, almost bumping into Bernard at the door. She was dressed as an elvish warrior, armed with a bow and quiver like his. Her eyes narrowed at the sight of Tabitha, hanging off of Bernard.

Bernard, suddenly conscious of this, shook off the clinging hand.

"Who are _you_?" asked Tabitha irritably.

"I was about to ask you the same thing," Ellington said. "The elves of Middle Earth do not wear dresses covered with sequins...especially not red ones."

"Well, I don't recognize you _at all,"_ Tabitha spat. Bernard took a step backward. He hadn't ever noticed how much jealousy Tabitha had against Ellington.

"Guess you haven't seen the new trailers then," said Ellington with a toss of her long, auburn hair. So it wasn't only Bernard who had needed a temporary dyeing and straightening for his 'costume'. Luckily, the Pole had magical ones that lasted only for as long as you needed them, then reverted back to the original style and color, so he wouldn't be stuck with long, blond hair for an extended period of time. "I'm Tauriel."

A collective _ahhhh_ went through the crowd. They had been watching the trailers all afternoon (which had been playing on a giant screen on one wall) and_ did_ know who she was. It was rather fitting, actually. Tauriel and Legolas...Ellington and Bernard...

"Who?" Bernard had been in his office all day, and hadn't seen said trailers.

A wicked grin crept over Tabitha's face. "You...you're not in the books at all!"

"Well, no; but I _personally_ think that LoTR has needed a badass elven girl for a long time..." Ellington trailed off, realizing what Tabitha was getting at. She had tricked her into admitting that...

"So you admit it! You don't even belong here! You're not one of us!" Tabitha cried triumphantly, knowing just how hard this would strike home. "I find that rather fitting, considering _your_ circumstances. After all," she said more loudly, "what better role to play than one of an elf who doesn't even belong in the story _at all!"_

A collective gasp.

"What is she talking about?" Annise asked Curtis. "Ellington's not an elf."

Curtis sighed, and looked away.

"You have _no right _ to say that to her!" Bernard snapped. "Apologize, _now."_ The rest of the elves shifted uncomfortably. Bernard only rarely got _angry,_ and twice in one month was too often for their liking. But it was heartening to see him come to Ellington's defense.

Which was good, since Ellington was speechless.

"Sorry, Bernie, but no." Tabitha stepped forward into Ellington's space. "You think you can just waltz into the North Pole, charm Santa and the rest of the Legendary Figures, and get grandfathered into a job that you, as a human, had no right to in the first place?" She laughed bitterly. "It makes me sick, the way you walk around with Bernard, acting like nobody knows that you're...how did you put it, when you were labeling me? _Head over heels_ for him."

"That's _enough!_" Bernard was visibly upset, and yet confused; everyone could see that. He stepped between Ellington and the aggressive elf, in a protective way. "_No one_ slanders a Head Elf."

Tabitha laughed again. "Bernard, you may be seventeen hundred years old, but you are as naïve as any boy ever was. I'm not _slandering_. Look around! Everyone here knows I'm telling the truth. "

Bernard looked up and around the room, at Judy, Curtis, Abby, the Legendary Figures, Santa and Mrs. Claus...and finally, his eyes fell on Annise. Even _she_ saw it.

Everyone. But. Him. Knew?

"Elle?" Bernard turned to face her, but Ellington's head was hanging in shame. Everything Tabitha was saying was true. Why _had _she ever accepted in the first place? And Bernard...he would hate her for lying to him.

"Tabitha, this is _completely_ unacceptable—"

"Quiet, fat boy!" Tabitha commanded.

"'Fat boy'?" Scott repeated distastefully. He was in his _non-Santa_ form.

"This is a _direct _violation of the elfin code of conduct!" Mother Nature said.

"Oh, and what are you going to do about it? Nothing, as usual!" said Tabitha, turning back to Ellington. "You're a _child;_ what would ever move you to think that _Bernard_ would be interested in someone like_ you?_" Tabitha smoothed her dress. "Especially when there are better fish in the pond."

A general boo arose from the other partygoers.

Tabitha snarled like an angry cat, causing the entire crowd to gasp and step back.

"Why...why are you doing this?" Ellington whispered. She knew why, but it was one of those things where you had to hear it to believe it.

"Because you don't deserve this life," Tabitha said maliciously. " As Number Two elf: _I_ do. And I'm not letting this go...I will _keep_ bothering you until you crack...unless you're already there?"

A tear rolled down Ellington's cheek. _Stay calm...stay calm..._

Bernard was livid. "You are FIRED,_" _he announced, not for the first time that month. But this time, Santa nodded in agreement.

Ellington flinched, and buried her face in her hands. Inwardly cursing how much she felt like a Mary Sue.

Tabitha laughed yet again...she seemed to be quite the fan of evil laughter. "Ah, Bernie. I'm not _fired,_" she said. "You can't fire me! I don't work for either of you!" As if on cue, her shiny red dress changed into a bright blue one.

"You...you're _Jack's_ elf!" Santa cried angrily. Then, noticing some Elficers sneaking in behind her, he decided to stall. "But...you know what? You have a point."

"She does?" asked Mother Nature, Father Time, Easter Bunny, Carol, Curtis, Abby, Judy...well, pretty much _everybody_ all at once.

"I do?" Tabitha was surprised.

"I'm sorry, _what?" s_aid Bernard, with a confused look in Santa's direction. Casually following Scott's gaze to the Elficers, he understood, and, though he hated to, played along. "You do, actually. Have a point."

"Really?" Much too easily fooled, mainly because of her infatuation with him, Tabitha stepped forward and set her hand on Bernard's arm again. She smiled at him, as though nothing had happened between her and his Number Two only seconds before.

"I have just one thing to say to you," he said.

Grinning, Tabitha asked, "What?"

Pulling her in a bit closer, and tightening his grip on her arm, Bernard whispered, just loud enough for her to hear, " You were right about my not knowing about Ellington. I was clueless. No longer, thanks to you."

Tabitha beamed.

"But In _my_ book, Ellington is no _child._ And she will _never_ be a waste of my time, because if we're talking about _fish_, she will _always_ be a bigger, better fish than _you."_ And he gave her a meaningful look.

"You...you mean you _actually...like her?"_ said Tabitha, horrified. "No...no, you can't! I'm not done yet! I ..."

Bernard smiled back, a bit smugly. "Guess you'll have to save it for the cops," he said, as the Elficers shot out and grabbed her.

"Augh! Let me go!" Tabitha cried, very stereotypically. "You wouldn't believe what he just told me! Santa's gonna want to hear _this!_"

The Elficers rolled their eyes.

"But you don't work for _me, _remember_? _Take her away, Elficers!" Santa called, over the cheering of the elves, as Tabitha was dragged away—after she had been gagged.

Bernard turned and smiled at the crowd, blushing. Everybody knowing was embarrassing...but it was also a relief. He didn't have to fake for anyone—including Ellington— anymore.

Speaking of Ellington...

Bernard found her spot empty. And an echo of footsteps retreating down the hall. Everyone had been so busy watching him and _Tabitha_ that they hadn't seen her slip out.

He gave Santa a meaningful look.

"Go get her, Bernard," Santa said quietly.

"Yeah, go get her!"

"Woohoo!"

"Go Bernard!"

The elves were supportive as always.

Ug—Bernard stopped himself from thinking it. What was the point, anyway?

"Elle?!" he yelled, running out after her.

More cheering ensued, along with several cries of, "We won! We won!_ Told you_ they'd get together." And the holding up of many green wager slips.

"Yeah, well. The bet's not over. They're not 'together' _yet,"_ said some of the elves, who were looking a bit worried.

"You guys are terrible!" Carol cried, laughing. "Scott, did you know about this?"

With a rueful look, Santa pulled out his own handful of green slips.

And then, Cupid fluttered out from behind the door, chuckling. "Boy, was _that _fun."

"Cupid!" Mother Nature cried. "What were you doing back there? You said you weren't coming!"

"I lied. Sorry about that. But _come on,_" Cupid said wearily. "You can't tell me that it wasn't getting to you how they are always eyeing each other when the other wasn't looking! It's heart wrenching! It's angst-y! It's enough to drive this Cherub of Love insane!"

"Cupid," said Scott, his voice full of dread. "What did you _DO?"_

"Oh...nothing much. Just shot Bernard with one of my Courage dipped arrows. It's about _Time_ that guy figured out what the heck he's feeling." He shot Father Time a displeased look. Father Time just shrugged. "Sheesh. Seventeen _hundred_ years. Talk about a dry spell." Cupid shook his head. "Then, I shot Ellington with a Vulnerability arrow. That should make things a little easier for the guy."

Ellington couldn't bear to watch it. Tabitha with Bernard...it was her nightmare all over again. So when everybody was busy watching the 'show', she'd snuck out the door.

And ran.

Out of the Kitchen wing, out of the Workshop, and almost to the mountains that skirted Elfsburg. Her newly acquired elfin speed sure helped in getting places quickly. There she fell on her knees, and just sobbed.

So much for the badass elven girl.

Everything had been ruined. Tabitha, that little orc, had just blown her cover with Bernard, laid out in clear daylight all of the reasons she should be replaced, and humiliated her in front of all the elves. Plus, now Annise probably knew that she would be staying behind! Or would she...it was possible that the Council would renege on their previous offer.

Shoot, anything was possible at this point.

She felt a hundred times colder than she had in her nightmare...

And then it started snowing.

_Great._

She should have known this would happen. Good things didn't happen to her, _ or _ her family. Good things only _pretended_ to happen, then turned into something else entirely. Something far more sinister...

On this train of thought, Ellington looked up at the sky—or what would have been the sky, had she been above ground. She could see fissures in its surface; what used to be a brilliant blue was now a dull brown color, not at all beautiful. This seemed like an appropriate metaphor for Ellington: she had thought she was making things better, but really, she had just been getting better at ignoring the real problems. Like, for instance, the fact that she had agreed to work alongside her long-time crush in a strictly platonic way for a theoretical eternity. What could possibly be more _stupid _than that? Oh yeah, _Tabitha_ had already told her: expecting that 'strictly platonic' status to change, eventually.

Bernard had been an elf for hundreds upon hundreds of years; if, among all of the beautiful elves in the Pole, not _one _had won his heart, what chance did she, a _human_ turncoat with authority issues and a knack for annoying him, have?

The problem, Ellington realized, was that too many things were unknown. It was nearly impossible to foresee how things would go: if hopes were false, if people would change, if choices would lead to success or heartbreak. She had taken too many chances in the past two months, chances that weren't coming out in her favor; and now, she was clueless about which, if any, had actually gone right.

It was more than slightly ironic that she was on her knees, out in the cold.

Really, could it get much worse?

"Ellington! Thank goodness!"

Why, yes. Yes it could.

"Jack," Ellington said flatly. She felt like she didn't have a drop of emotion left in her. It didn't really matter if Jack screwed her over again. Life _sucked,_ anyway.

Jack, who had been running _down_ the mountain, stopped in front of her. "I was just trying to get back to the Workshop...the Council needs to know—gosh, you look terrible."

"Yeah, well. I feel even more terrible than I look, if that tells you anything." Ellington stared at the holes she had melted in the snow with her tears. She felt like there were holes _inside_ of her, too.

"My goodness. What happened?" Kneeling, Jack wrapped an arm around her. Even though this felt like a rerun of her last time with him, it didn't affect Ellington in the sway she had expected it would. The contact made fresh tears spring to her eyes.

By now, the effects of Cupid's arrow were really hitting her system full force. So by the time she'd told him everything, she was bawling her eyes out again.

"Oh...oh my dear Ellington. This is simply terrible!" Jack sighed dramatically, and stroked her hair...she was still in her Tauriel costume. "You must want very badly for this all to end."

"But...but it's p-partly _your_ fault!" Ellington sobbed. "Tabitha was _your _ elf; she ruined _everything!"_

"An unfortunate occurrence but not her—or my—intended result. You see, we were trying to get you two _together_."

A lie, obviously. But Ellington didn't know that.

She looked up, confused. "What?"

Jack rolled his eyes. "Oh come now, Ellington. You didn't think I'd give you Nightmare dust—sorry about that, by the way; but I assure you, it was necessary—just for giggles?" Shaking his head, Jack went on. "Oh no. It was to get you a little more attention from Number One, especially since my plan had backfired and he'd wandered off with Tabs. She was supposed to make him mad, and he was supposed to insist you go with him, but no such luck."

Ellington moaned. "Don't remind me."

"He is exceptionally hard to persuade," Jack said. "So I thought, if you were sick, he'd come running. At least _that_ part worked."

Thinking back on the events of that morning, Ellington sighed shakily. "Yeah, well. Now it just hurts. I don't think this would hurt so much if that hadn't happened." She pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms tightly around them. "It would have been better if I'd never come at all. Then I never would have had to go through this...or bother Bernard, either. I wish it hadn't happened..."

"You do?" said Jack, his bright blue adopting a falsely surprised look. "You mean, you wish you'd never come to the Pole at all?"

"Yeah...sort of. I wish I'd never come to the Pole."

"At all?"

Ellington gave him a dirty look. Cupid's arrow or not, she wasn't _that_ confused. "I don't know what you're trying to pull over on me, Jack..."

"Sorry. Force of habit." Jack gave her a look almost as dubious. "I know you doubt my ability to be anything _but _ a wily two faced snake, but trust me, it's there. I wasn't unfrozen for nothing, you know."

"Yes, but you're just as frozen as you were before, _now,_" Ellington argued, then clutched at her head. "Ugh! I'm getting an _awful _headache."

"I'm sorry," said Jack sympathetically. Then he froze—figuratively, that is. "Oh dear. I entirely forgot...I've got to get down and speak with the Council."

"They won't be too happy to see you, after the Nightmare dust thing." Ellington sniffed. "What's the big hurry, anyway? You've been gone for days; why hurry back now?"

"My dear Ellington," Jack said, somewhat fondly. "Even when you are emotionally compromised, you have the most _insightful_ questions."

With a glare, Ellington said, "Spiel, Jack."

With his eyes shining, Jack told the story. "Once I heard how angry the council was, I knew I needed to do something to make it better...after all, I only really wanted you two together. I needed to do something redeeming... and so I trekked way out here, up the mountains, to take a look at _that_ dismal hunk of arctic waste." He pointed up at the ice. "It's weakening, Ellington. I can communicate with ice—yes, I _know_ how weird that sounds, but you of all people should understand—and it told me that it doesn't have long."

"If you can communicate with it," Ellington said irritably, "Then why didn't you _ask _it what's weakening it _in the first place?!_"

"Patience, pet," Jack soothed. "I'm getting to it, give me a chance. Now, where was I? Oh yes: It doesn't have long. I listened closely to it, and do you know what I heard? _Voices."_

"Duh." Ellington was far from impressed.

"_No,_ not _duh,"_ Jack chastised. "These voices were muttering angry things, bad things about Christmas. They told me that we only have until midnight on Christmas eve to stop it, or Christmas will be destroyed forever."

"Well, _that's _news." Ellington had a nasty feeling in her stomach.

"Yeah, well; it's really no surprise, if you think about it. Poetic justice, or whatnot. Anyway, the Voice. It was a female voice at first, but others were with it. And the I recognized it: your sister, Dorothy."

"Dottie?" Ellington frowned. "_Dottie?_ I'm sorry; Dottie may be bitter, and she may be rude, but she isn't that influential."

"You're missing the point," said Jack impatiently. "You see: before you three ever came to the Pole, magic was drawing you here. It was The Emissary Clause; it needed to be fulfilled, and it had chosen you three as candidates for _Bernard_." There was a definite note of disdain in his tone when he said the Head Elf's name.

"Wait...what do you mean, 'candidates for Bernard'?"

Jack paused, and furrowed his brow. "You mean the Big Guy didn't tell you what The Emissary Clause was really about?"

"Um...Christmas spirit?"

A laugh. "Sounds so innocent, doesn't it? No, that's not what it's really about." Using that 'I-can-pull-stuff-out -of-thin -air -because -I'm -a -Legendary -Figure' trick, Jack produced _The Santa Handbook_ from behind his back. "I borrowed this from you," he apologized.

"It's okay; I didn't exactly _miss_ it. In fact I didn't realize it _was_ missing. When Curtis passed it to me I was worried that carrying it around would eventually give me back problems, so I didn't. But anyway...The Clause?"

"The Clause. Well, read it for yourself." Jack opened the book to the correct page, and handed it to Ellington, along with his handkerchief.

"Thanks." Ellington wiped her eyes before reading aloud. " 'Rule 9,274, The Emissary Clause. Every 550 years, an emissary must be chosen from among humans to visit the North Pole, be they lonely or without cheer. All emissaries must be under the age of eighteen. All emissaries must be female. This practice must be observed every 550th year, with the exception of postponements. Such postponements may be made only by Santa or the Head Elf. This Clause has been created and endorsed by..." she paused.

"What?" Jack asked, knowing full well just _what._

"It's signed, _Nicholas of Myra,_" Ellington said, awestruck.

"Well, read on," Jack prompted. She wasn't to the good part yet.

" 'This Clause has been created and endorsed by _Nicholas of Myra, _ on this _twenty fourth day of the month of December, being Christmas eve of the year three hundred and forty four. _All said Emissaries shall be considered candidates for matchmaking with..._what?"_ The last _what _ was Ellington's addition. She went on reading in silence.

_'All said Emissaries shall be considered candidates for matchmaking with Theodulus, sometime Bernard, my spiritual child and beloved and trusty helper. This Clause shall bind him to select one of the maidens chosen by the Magic as a suitable bride. However, certain conditions may nullify some candidates, including (but not limited to) illness, great difference in age, or other unsuitable qualities, most notably, lack of true and unwavering Christmas Spirit.'_

Wha...why didn't Santa tell me?! Or any of us girls? We deserved to know we were being set up with his Head Elf! This is complete _bullshit!_"

"Because he knew only one of you was even a candidate," Jack explained, ignoring her language. "Didn't you hear what it said? 'Certain conditions' may keep the girls from being candidates. And they did: 'great difference in age', 'lack of true and unwavering Christmas Spirit'? Those perfectly describe your sisters, don't they? That leaves only you as a 'candidate' at all."

"So...I was being set up with him from the beginning? To be his _bride?_ " Ellington said. "That's...really cliché."

"Why yes, I'd say it is." Jack admitted, humorously.

"Hey...did Bernard know about this?"

Jack gave her a meaningful look. "You bet he did. He postponed it three times."

"So _that's _ why he was avoiding me!" cried Ellington, suddenly understanding. It all made sense now. "He _knew _he was being paired up with me, and hated it!" The idea made her stomach turn. Bernard had _hated_ the idea of being with her. In her 'Vulnerable' confusion, all of the kind, sweet things Bernard had done for her flew out of the window...especially as she was being heavily influenced by Jack's presence.

"A sad fact, my dear; but unavoidable. Despite our best efforts, Bernard remained...well, rather _unwavering_ himself." Seeing Ellington tear up again, Jack added, "Too bad he didn't know a good thing when he saw one."

"He _lied_ to me," Ellington whispered. "He told me that he _wanted _me to be here, that I was overreacting, misreading him. But... I wasn't. I wasn't wrong. Santa probably forced him to accept me as Number Two...and then he _lied_ again, telling me it was his idea." If she had thought her heart was breaking before, it was nothing compared to now. Before, her heart had been broken in pieces. Now, it had been trampled into a million tiny shards. Like it was made of glass.

Ugh, _stupid_ metaphors.

"I'm...so sorry," said Jack, in that falsely apologetic tone of his. But Ellington was too distraught to catch it. She felt like screaming, tearing her hair out, running for miles and miles again; anything to make the searing pain in her chest stop. She wanted it to stop...and for the thoughts of Bernard to get out of her head forever. She wanted to forget...to forget him forever...

And she didn't realize that she was projecting those thoughts directly into Jack's mind.

Damn telepathy. It never seemed to work in her favor anymore.

"I can make that happen."

Ellington looked up, surprised. "What...did you say?"

Jack gave her a small, sad smile, and said, "To forget him. I can make that happen."

Had she said that aloud? Before, Ellington would have shrunk away from any offer Jack had. But now she was desperate.

"How?"

"The same way you just made me hear your thoughts," stated Jack simply. "Your telepathy."

"My telepathy?" This repeating thing she was doing, under normal circumstances, would have made her face palm.

"Yes." Jack pointed skyward. "It works on that, too. The _Unknown_, as the Council has been calling it. Silly, really; it's nothing _unknown_ at all. Just...hatred, plain and simple. Ill will, discontent, 'lack of Christmas Spirit'; whatever you want to call it. But _you,_ and perhaps only you, can make it go away."

"How?" Ellington's comebacks were really suffering under the emotional strain.

"By projecting your thoughts—happy, Christmassy thoughts, mind you—much as you projected those miserable ones into mine. If you can drown out the angry ones, it should reverse their negative effects on the Pole."

"And...how does this make me forget B...B..." She stumbled over his name. Ellington couldn't bring herself to say it.

Jack sighed wistfully. "If I told you, it wouldn't work, I'm afraid. Remember the Nightmare dust? If I would have told you, then..."

"I get it, I get it," said Ellington quickly, not wanting to relive that again.

"So? Will you do it?"

Ellington sighed. She didn't have anything to lose now. Either she would have to stay at the Pole and lose her family, and Bernard, and _everything; _or she would be sent home, and lose her father, and Bernard, and everything. The odds weren't exactly in her favor, either way.

And with her mind as (unfortunately) Vulnerable as it was, it didn't take her long to decide.

"Yes," she agreed. "I'll go. I'll do it. Just...make me forget him."

Jack stood up, and offered her a hand. "Then let's go. We don't have any time to waste. The sooner the Polar Cap is restored, the better, right?"

Ellington took his hand, magically foregoing her Tauriel outfit and switching back into her elfin clothes...which in this case thankfully included tall black boots and a long, dark green pea coat. Her own curls, snow covered, had returned, her fully pointed ears peeking out from them. But her eyes—those bright, sparkling blue eyes that Jack adored—were reddened from weeping, and bore a heart breaking look in them. "Show me the way," she said quietly.

The snow fell softly around them as they climbed up the mountains; it was thick enough to block the sight of them from those in Elfsburg who were searching desperately for them... mainly, Ellington.

Bernard couldn't see her falling into Jack's trap.

He couldn't stop her.

And Ellington, for her part, didn't look back.

"Elle!" Having eliminated the Workshop, Bernard was running around Elfsburg, searching for his... "_Elle!_ Ellington! Has anyone seen Number Two?" Gosh, did he like the sound of that now.

"Nope."

"Sorry, Bernard!"

"_Dammit,"_ Bernard muttered. She had been right when she had said, 'If I didn't want to be found, you wouldn't find me, plain and simple.'

He had been searching for over four hours already. This part of Elfsburg had been his last hope.

Then, just when he had decided to go back to the Workshop and ask the Council for some help, he got a horrible, tearing feeling in his stomach.

And a group of nearby elves gasped. "Look! The Polar Cap! It's..."

"Turning blue," Bernard finished, in disbelief.

The news spread like wildfire. Bernard had no doubt that already the Council and the others in the Workshop were out in the courtyard watching the transformation. In about five minutes, the Cap was fully blue again.

The cheering could be heard all throughout Elfsburg.

But Bernard felt very sick. His instinct told him that something was terribly wrong.

All of the elves began to move towards the Workshop, were Santa would probably give them an upbeat speech that Bernard didn't want hear just then. His Elle was missing, and the feeling he got thinking about her was very unsettled...wait, had he just called her 'his Elle'?!

The feeling grew exponentially worse, when, as the snow started to clear, Barnard saw Jack coming down the mountain, swinging something he definitely shouldn't have had.

Bernard cut right to the chase. "Where's Elle?" he demanded. "And...why do you have Father Time's pocket watch?"

Jack smiled an oily smile. "Quite impressive, isn't it?" he said, gesturing up at the Cap. "Your little _girlfriend_ has quite the impressive mental talent herself, too. But...she's not really your girlfriend, is she? You're looking for something a little more..._permanent_ in a relationship; aren't you, Mr. Elf Number One?"

Bernard clenched his fists in barely controlled rage. Jack had done something alright. "Where. Is. She?" he said through his teeth.

"Easy, easy," Jack laughed a cold, satisfied laugh. "Your darling _Elle_ expressed a wish to me, to forget you entirely."

"What?" Bernard's face fell.

"Why yes. After the whole Tabitha incident, and after I showed her the entirety of The Emissary Clause—"

"You _showed_ her the Clause?!" Bernard yelled.

Jack ignored him, and went on as if uninterrupted. "...Naturally, she felt pretty betrayed by you. She told me that her entire time here had been full of lies, that she had failed everyone, and that she _wished it had never happened."_

"No...no no no," muttered Bernard miserably. "It wasn't...she didn't even...augh!" He hid his face in his hands.

"And seeing as I just happened to have the tool to make that happen..." Jack swung the pocket watch in circles, chuckling to himself.

Bernard looked up, horrified. "You didn't."

"Oh yes I did!" squealed Jack gleefully. "I sent her right back to where everything started to go wrong...the night she came here, actually. And this time, she won't answer her front door. Her _father _will."

"But her father is sick," Bernard argued.

"Not in this time line," Jack said casually. "You see, I built the new time line off of what she _wished_ her life was like at this point...a bit of a mercy, after _your_ ill treatment. I think she'll find it a much better place than the one she left."

"How did you know how to...?"

"It was a cinch! You know, the others should really stop explaining their methods at Council meetings," said Jack, brimming with mirth. "It's too easy for me to disguise myself as some frost on the window ledge, and listen in on everything. Poor Father Time was too explanatory for his own good."

"You..." Bernard growled. But Jack was too preoccupied with himself to pay the elf the attention he should have, given the murderous expression on his face.

"Oh, lovely," Jack chuckled. "And if I did it correctly, we should be catching up with the time line right about..."

A low earthquake shook the entire town, and a clear ripple seamed to pass over their surroundings.

"Now," said Jack, looking immensely pleased. He gave Bernard a condescending look, and flung his arms out wide. "Welcome, Bernard, to December 19th, 2013: the alternate reality!" And he threw back his head and laughed. "Oh, Ellington would be _pleased _with the Trekkie goodness of this moment!"

She was gone. Elle was gone, living a new, better life somewhere, and she had no memory of him at all. Something inside of Bernard snapped, felt like it was breaking. At the same moment, Bernard lost his 'cool'...and with a cry of rage, he punched Jack square in the nose, _hard._

So hard that Jack fell backwards into the snow with a howl of pain.

Frost clutched at his face, moaning. "Frostbite, you've got a punch." He withdrew his hand to reveal a large trickle of blood running down his face. He looked up in disbelief. "I thought you'd never do it."

Standing over him, shaking in anger, Bernard said, "Well, well. My suspicion that you were blue blooded was correct, after all." His eyes were hard. "I've been wanting to do that for a _long_ time." And without another word, he turned and stalked in the direction of the Workshop.

Before he had gone many paces, Jack, still on his butt in the snow, called, "I know you'll go after her."

Bernard stopped in his tracks.

"But she'll never fall for you a second time. Her heartbreak ensures it. Just ask Cupid."

"Thanks," Bernard called back over his shoulder, "For giving me another chance to prove you wrong." But as he ran off, he prayed that Jack wasn't right.

It took him twenty minutes to get back to the Workshop. Santa and the others were gathered outside in the courtyard, just as he'd expected.

"Bernard!" Carol cried, relieved. "We were so worried!"

"What happened?" Scott asked.

"Annise just disappeared!" Curtis yelled. "Into thin air, right when that earthquake happened!"

"Our costumes are gone!" Abby said sadly.

"And the Polar Cap!" Mother Nature exclaimed. "It's been repaired!"

"You look like hell!" Cupid announced. Everyone else stopped talking, and saw he was right. Bernard looked terrible.

"Yeah well, I feel even worse than I look, if that tells you anything." Bernard rubbed his face. "Look, Jack's back. He created an alternate time line, and put us through it."

All eyes flew to Father Time, who was checking his pockets. "Tricks and time warps," he muttered, "literally. Jack stole my pocket watch."

"Elle—Ellington's not here anymore," Bernard said. " Neither is Annise, or Dorothy. They're living somewhere else. And Santa," he looked seriously at Scott, "she found out about the Clause."

Quentin suddenly burst out of the Workshop's double doors. "Santa! He cried. "All of the toys we'd completed early are gone! Our production level has dropped to normal yearly rates! We're thousands of toys short again!"

"Makes sense," Father Time commented. "In this time line, Ellington wasn't here."

"Great," said Scott sarcastically. "So: we're hopelessly behind schedule, we've no idea where Ellington is, no way to get her back, and Christmas is in six days! _Six days!_" He threw up his hands. "What are we going to do?"

"I'm going after her."

Scott turned to Bernard. "What?"

"Ellington. I'm going after her."

And the look on Bernard's face told them that no one would be able to convince him otherwise.

**Whaaaaaaat! **

**I think Jack has a fetish for screwing up shit. That, and messing with time lines.**

**It just seemed right.**

**And yay/sigh/cheer! I finally made it to the part I've been ****_dying_**** to write.**

**What does Ellington ****_wish_**** her life is like at this point?**

**Will Bernard be able to find her? **

**What does this mean for the two of them?**

**OMFG this is gonna be fun. **

**Hope you guys liked it. Chapter 10 won't be long coming, don't worry.**

**Thoughts? Reviews? Comments? Please! I miss hearing from the greater majority of you.**

**Hope you're all having a great Christmas Day.**

**Cheers!**

**-Ana**


	10. Have You Seen My Love?

**Happy New Year! (Insert Fireworks here.)**

**Also: (Insert Usual Disclaimers here.)**

**Lol hey guys! So thanks to all the reviewers, everyone sticking around after Christmas. Wanted to tell you guys right off the bat that this will not be a one chapter resolution. I wanted to give Bernard and Elle a chance to 'start over' in a sense, without all of the pressure and sadness that went on during Ellington's stay at the Pole. I wanted to give them a 'normal' setting, and see what happens ;) Hopefully you guys will like it, since now that the problems in the earlier chapters have been resolved, we can focus on their relationship. **

**In addition, I have taken ****_SafyreSky_**** up on her offer, and am making use of her OC, Jacqueline Frost, Jack Frost's Legate/sister. If you haven't read her stories, go read them now. No, not like, 'okay, maybe later', but NOW. Okay, when you're done here, geesh. They're really good ;) All kudos to you, girl!**

**Alright, so here goes! See you all in 2014! *throws confetti***

**Cheers,**

**-Ana**

* * *

10. Have You Seen My Love?

"Are you sure this is the right thing to do?"

Judy was helping Bernard pack things for his trip.

"How could you even ask that, Judy? If it were Doug, you know you'd do the same thing." Bernard was even moodier than usual. He was nervous...not that he would admit it; but the idea of searching aimlessly for Ellington, however set on it he was, was daunting. He had already set the elves in Security (minus Tabitha, who was still in the clink) on tracking her family's location. So far, they hadn't found anything yet—but then, it had only been two hours since the 'time warp'. "I have to do this. I have to go after her...regardless of what's going on up here."

Judy, passing Bernard yet another well folded scarf, gave him a reassuring smile. "I know that, Bernard," she said gently. His edginess was normal: his 'one and true' had been stolen away from him, and Judy had anticipated this kind of response, even from the Head Elf. "I just wanted you to say it aloud...knowing why you're doing something right from the beginning can help you stay strong, especially if the road gets difficult later on."

With a moan, Bernard said, "Please, don't remind me that this is going to get more difficult later on. It's hard enough as it is." He snapped his two suitcases shut and set them on the floor. "Well, that's it. I don't suppose I'll need to pack anything else...there's only so much you can pack when you have no idea where you're going."

On his bedside table, Bernard's phone buzzed. It was a text from Santa.

_S.C.: Security's located the Connellys. She's in Seattle. Pack for rainy weather._

"Scratch that then."

"Well, that makes sense," Judy observed. "Ellington was always talking about how she wanted to go back to Seattle."

"She was?" This was news to Bernard. He didn't remember hearing her talk about it.

"Sure. She grew up there, you know. Weren't you listening?"

"I guess not." Another thing he would do differently the second time around, among other things. And with that thought, Bernard realized just how lucky he really was. Most people didn't get a second chance—even a difficult one—to a relationship that had had so many problems.

If you could even call it a 'relationship' in a conventional sense.

* * *

_Seattle, December 19__th__, 2013_

"Ellington, come downstairs please!" Josette Connelly called. She was in her well made-up kitchen, making breakfast at six a.m. for her family. A cure had been found years ago for her illness, and she was now a fully capable person, if not outright peppy. She often had an abundance of energy, which went into her interior design label, _Connelly Elegance;_ one of the bestselling labels in the nation.

"She's coming, mom!" Annise said, as she thundered down the staircase, her backpack swinging wildly from one shoulder. She stopped to grab a waffle.

"Please sit _down_ when eating your breakfast, young lady," Josette chided. "They don't let you do that at school, do they? And careful that you don't drip syrup on your uniform."

Annise made a face. "No," she muttered, then took on a proper tone. "The young ladies of Primula Westing School do not stand while eating, drinking, or studying—_except_ during dictation." She scowled, but threw herself down in a chair. "Ellington's lucky that she's already in college. She gets to take whatever classes she wants...doesn't have to take boring old 'edification'."

Josette sighed, and drifted out into the dining room with a plate for her husband.

No, Phillip Connelly did _not _have cancer; on the contrary, the former contractor had become more successful than he had previously thought possible. He was now CEO of a large development corporation, and was far from poor. He and his family lived in a very large house on East Hill that was as beautiful as it was old; and he, along with his wife, were very influential people.

"Ellington doesn't have it as easy as all that, the silly old bookworm," said Dottie, as she floated down the staircase to take a seat at the table. Their house was the kind where you had to call it a staircase instead of stairs. "_I've _got it easy. You should have insisted that you be put in public school, not that stuffy prep school."

"But public school is _awful!"_ said Annise with a horrified look. "Do you know how big this city is? How many delinquents go to your school? I wouldn't _want_ to be educated in a place that scary." She shivered, and finished her waffle. "Anyway, I don't think Daddy's going to let you carry on there much longer. I heard him telling Mr. Prowley that 'no daughter of mine will finish in that terrible abyss of an education system'." Mr. Prowley was their father's business partner.

Dottie laughed, and rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Daddy said that _last _year, and here I am, still going to East Seattle High." She began to peel an orange using her long, manicured nails. "He's just got high expectations, since Ellington got accepted on scholarship into the UW School of the Arts. How nice; he doesn't even have to pay for her tuition."

"She pays for it in essays," said Annise sarcastically. "She had five to write before bed last night."

Annise and Dottie exchanged dubious looks. "So that's why there wasn't any of the usual screaming," Dottie said quietly. "Well...better notebooks then nightmares."

Annise nodded. "When I left her she was just finishing the last essay. I guess she didn't sleep much."

"Try not at all," said Ellington, rushing downstairs and slinging her book bag on over her dark green pea coat. (It was her favorite, but she never could remember just where she'd gotten it.) As her own neatly clipped yet very short nails weren't of much use in a hurry against fruit with a peel, she grabbed an apple and tossed it into her bag. "I barely had time to review the scripts for the play. Ms. Larkspear would have been so terribly disappointed."

"Why do you even care about that children's play so much, anyway?" Dottie asked. "I mean, you're staying home from Christmas vacation to help produce the darn thing."

"The yearly Christmas play at the Children's Theatre is one of the season's biggest attractions in the Art District," Ellington said fondly. "I'm just lucky enough to be involved. Besides, I prefer Seattle in the winter time to Hawaiian palm trees any year."

Dottie sighed. "As you wish, my dear," she said sadly. "It's your loss. I, for one, am partial to the Hilton Hawaiian, and room service. But to each his own."

"I'll miss you though," Annise said, giving Ellington a rueful look. "It won't be the same without you there. And won't you get lonely, in this big old house by yourself?"

"Oh, give me a break," scoffed Dottie. "She'll be throwing some big-ass parties as soon as we leave, right sis? Cause we all know, of the three of us, _you_ are the biggest partyer." She and Annise burst out laughing.

Ellington scowled. "Lol." She shook her head. "No. Probably just me and my bestie, hanging out and eating ice cream."

"Getting fat," Dottie joked sourly. "I hate you guys for never getting fat. You two can eat anything, and you never gain weight. You. Guys. Suck."

Oh, pffff," Ellington said, waving her off. "We just have good metabolisms. It's because we walk to school, not drive."

"Is that my Ellie Connelly?" Boomed a voice from the dining room.

"Oh God no," Ellington whispered, as her father moved into the Kitchen.

Phillip Connelly was dressed for another busy day around town, in his usual designer wardrobe. "There's my favorite college student!" he cried, pulling Ellington in for a huge hug and, much to Ellington's dismay, her customary hair tousling. She ducked out of the way just in time.

"Morning, Dad," she sighed, as Annise and Dottie continued to giggle at the morning exchange that had become routine in the Connelly household. "Love you, but I'm late for school. And I've got to stop by the theater before that."

Ah yes, the Theater," Phillip said. "Make sure you let Ms. Larkarrow—"

"Larkspear."

"I knew that," said her father stubbornly. "...Ms. Lark_spear_, know that the new costumes arriving this morning are fully paid for."

"Thanks, Dad," said Ellington, standing up on tiptoe to give him a kiss on the cheek. "We really needed those. It will mean a lot to the kids."

"Not a problem, for my Ellie Girl," Phillip said kindly, moving around the table to greet his other two daughters. "And since my other, _golden_ girls are getting their presents in a _warmer_ form..."

"Oh dad," Dottie said, swatting him away playfully. Annise laughed and scooted out of her chair to run across the room, avoiding the tickling she normally received.

"...It's the least I can do." He reached into a pocket. "But...there's something a little more in the driveway." He grinned at Ellington.

"Dad..." Ellington stared at the keys in his hand. "You...you didn't! Not again."

Mr. Connelly laughed. "Yes, again. I don't know why you've insisted to take public transportation for so long, but no longer. It's time for you to have your own set of wheels."

Ellington hugged him quickly. "Thank you! Thank you _so _much! You and mom both! But..." She trailed off.

"So much for metabolism," Dottie muttered dejectedly. Ellington saw Dottie's sad expression as she stared dejectedly at the remains of her orange peel. Dottie, she knew, had been exceptionally good that year. Dottie was the one hoping for 'wheels of her own', not her. So when her father turned to give Josette a 'yay, we finally got her to accept it' look, Ellington tossed the keys to her sister and dashed out, yelling "Merry Christmas, Dottie! Love ya!" back over her shoulder.

"YES! Yes, finally!" squealed Dottie, pumping her fists in the air in jubilation. "A car! My own car! Daddy, let me keep it! Please! _Please!"_

"Ellington Sophia Connelly!" Josette cried after her, "you come back here this instant!" But Ellington was out the front door, slamming it behind her.

"Oh, let her go," said Phillip, shaking his head. "That kid will never learn to accept a gift."

As she walked briskly through the cold winter air, past the shiny red Maserati in the spacious driveway, Ellington reflected on how many times this had happened before. In fact it happened routinely with almost every gift they gave her: Ellington would thank them profusely, then turn around and give it to someone who needed it. Ellington, meeting a friend who needed a car to drive across the states to see her dying parent, had given her the first car, a Ferrari, without a second thought. That was when she had been 15; and every few months, her father and mother would pester her about getting a new car, without any luck. Apparently, they were trying a new, more assertive tactic. Luckily, it had failed.

By the time she had taken the bus downtown, she was completely reminded of why she liked to commute by foot and bus, as much as possible. Ellington knew almost everybody in her favorite parts of town; and if she didn't know them, they knew her. No Connelly passed unnoticed in Seattle; and though they didn't have a constant posse of paparazzi, they were very well known. Ellington remained, for the most part, pleasantly aloof to this. She knew her family was famous and wealthy; but she had resolved long ago not to let it go to her head. She knew she wanted to help people, especially children; and so, when she did make use of her family's money, it was usually to those ends. But she was friendly, and sweet, and people appreciated that, in a person with money.

In Pike Place Market, where each day she splurged on a bunch of flowers, she knew all of the flower vendors on a first name basis. (Some of their young male assistants tried numerous times to slip mistletoe into her winter bouquets, but without luck: Ellington could spot it a mile away and quickly handed it back to the owner, which earned the offending party some nasty task or other down by the fish sellers.) Ellington always felt a twinge of unpleasantness in her stomach at these kind of gestures. The same thing happened today, as she stopped to hand back the small green sprig to the stall holder with a rueful look. She had lots of friends, even at school...but that's all they were, _friends;_ Ellington wasn't even really close with her female friends, except one good friend she had known for a very long time. The male ones_, _though...she didn't want that kind of a relationship with even the nicest of them, because her family's money was always part of the equation, and Ellington knew that for her, that would never be good enough. So far, she hadn't met the kind of guy she would be interested in, and actually, she didn't mind it that way. She was busy with her life and didn't want any distractions.

At least, that's what she told herself.

Because the truth was (and she was acutely aware of this), she felt like she was supposed to wait for something, or someone...but she didn't know why_. _ She would often catch herself scanning the people in the street, as if searching for someone...which didn't make any sense. It gave her the oddest feeling...and it happened around Christmas most of all.

But that was nothing new. It had been true of every Christmas she could remember. This was odd, because Ellington loved—r_eally, really loved—_ Christmas, she always had; for her, it really _was_ 'The Most Wonderful Time of the Year'. But that unsettled feeling always came with it, and try thought she might to shake it, it never went away. Why, she asked herself, would Christmas give her an incomplete feeling; like she was missing something crucial, wondrous?

Clinging to her double shot cappuccino brevet like it was her last hope for warmth, Ellington shivered and buried her chin in her thick brown scarf, scuffing under the bare trees and abundant Christmas lights with a joyous feeling. She didn't need a tropical Christmas. Like she'd told Dottie, she preferred the cold—as well as some time away from her, what felt like, perfect family. Part of her uneasiness, she figured, lay in the fact that nothing had gone wrong for the Connelly's in a long time; and secretly, Ellington wished something...not _bad;_ just... remarkable _would_ happen to her. Her life was wonderful; no doubt; and she was grateful. But that Christmas, she thought, she wanted something...magical.

She didn't realize that something—or rather, _someone—_magical was already on his way.

* * *

Not for the first time that year, Santa, Mrs. Claus, Curtis and Abby stood together with Bernard in the Sleigh Room. Bernard stood with his suitcases by his side, dressed warmly in his coat and scarf while he waited for Santa to speak.

Scott was reluctant to let Bernard go. Not because of all the toys they needed to catch up on, not because he would be missing his Number One during the week just before Christmas...but because, however 'illogical' it was, Scott was worried of how Bernard would hold up in 'the real world'.

But he knew that, when Bernard set his mind on something, he was unstoppable.

So, with a sigh, he smiled at the Head Elf. "Be careful out there, Bernard. Seattle's a big city."

"You're telling me," said Bernard, with one of his lopsided grins. He dug his hands in his coat pockets. "I'll be _fine_, don't worry. Have you forgotten how old I am?"

"That's why I'm worried," said Scott sarcastically. "You're a little outdated."

Curtis stepped up, holding a big red three ring binder. "Here's everything you need to know about Ellington's new life, okay? This is everything we've got on her."

"It's a lot bigger than the _old_ binder, isn't it?" Hearing a sniff, Bernard looked up sharply. "Hey, are you..."

"No, I am _not_ crying!" Curtis hollered, swiping angrily at his eyes. He pulled a letter out of his pocket and thrust it at Bernard. "Here. Give this to her...if you find her."

"_When_ I find her," corrected Bernard resolutely. He pocketed the letter and turned back to Santa and Mrs. Claus. "Is there anything else?"

Carol gave him a reassuring smile, and hugged him. "We know you'll find her, Bernard. The Clause put you two together, remember? Just because Jack"—Bernard visibly bristled—" threw a wrench in things doesn't mean everything won't turn out in the end." She took a small bag from Scott and handed it to Bernard.

"That's your new identity," Santa told him. "There should be everything you need in there...and a little extra."

Bernard pulled out a wallet, and flipped it open. I.D, a slip with an address, and...his eyebrows shot up, as he took out a black credit card. "American Express? Is that _really _necessary?"

With a shrug, Scott said, "Any city is an expensive place. And I think you'll find Ellington's a different class of girl than she used to be." He gave Bernard a sideways look. "Are you seriously going to _complain_ about endless money?"

"NO." Bernard rolled his eyes. "Thanks, though. I'm...sure it will come in handy." He wasn't exactly comfortable with the idea of so much money—after all, they didn't use it at the Pole—but knew Scott was right.

Abby came in, carrying a large green satchel. "Are you leaving _already?"_

"Yep." Bernard stepped forward and took the satchel, his suitcases magically disappearing beside him. "Thanks, Abby."

"I put a thermos of cocoa in there for you," Abby said, with a small smile. But anyone could tell she was nervous. "Be careful out there. It's bigger than up here. And the cocoa's not as good."

"Trust me, I've been warned," said Bernard, giving Santa a dubious look. Santa shrugged. "Well," he said, gazing around at those in the room, "wish me luck. When you see me again, Ellington will be with me...and all of this will finally go back to the way it should be."

"You won't need luck," said Carol kindly.

"Hopefully," Scott corrected. "But Bernard...you may have to face the fact that Jack may be right: Ellington may not fall for you a second—"

"I am _not,_" Bernard said firmly, adjusting the satchel on his shoulder, "coming back without her."

"Uh, Bernard..." Scott began uncomfortably, but Bernard disappeared, leaving Santa looking at where he'd been standing with a puzzled expression on his face. "Did he just say that..."

"Bernard's in the opposite position you were with the Escape Clause, honey," Carol pointed out. "Ellington's been taken from him, and he has to _bring _ her back, instead of just waiting for her, like I had to wait for you."

"The difference," argued Scott, "is that I _knew_ when the timeline went wrong; and _you _didn't. It's like a reversal, and an inversion."

"It's...all around confusing," admitted Curtis. "But Bernard knows what he's doing;...as usual."

* * *

It was early morning; that much was apparent. Bernard had teleported directly into the bustling heart of Seattle. Based on the traffic flow, he guessed (correctly) that he was somewhere downtown, and reached into the small bag Santa had given him to withdraw a phone...a real one, that ran on an American mobile network and not the Pole's.

The sidewalks were busy for that hour; mostly people rushing to school or home from a graveyard shift; and Bernard was jostled several times. He was so busy trying to power on the device that he missed seeing the beautiful Christmas lights lining the streets before they shut off.

Curtis had told him that Ellington's phone was being tracked for his convenience; so that all he needed to do was follow her signal. Bernard was surprisingly tech savvy; being Head Elf meant understanding what _all_ departments produced, and since over the past twenty years computers had become an enormous deal (leaving Curtis practically screaming I-told-you-so ), the Electronics department have become quite possibly the busiest part of the Workshop, bar Wrapping.

He was finding his way around just fine, and was just opening the app that was aptly labeled "Elle Tracker" when he felt a sharp pang in his stomach. Bernard looked up, alarmed; and who should he see striding down the opposite side of the street clutching two hot, steaming drinks then...

"Elle?" he whispered in surprise. It was Ellington, all right. She even wore the same coat and everything. There she was, walking along with the drinks, looking for all the world as if she were headed for a busy day in the Workshop.

Well, that had been easy. _Too easy_, he chided himself, slipping the phone into his pocket. It couldn't really be her, could it?

He crossed the street and casually tailed her for a couple of blocks. The crowd began to thin as they made their way into the Art District, until he had to walk really far behind and duck around corners to avoid being seen. Because Ellington kept throwing her eyes back over her shoulder, as if worried. In fact, her face somehow looked different than it had before... there was a subtle sadness. Perhaps not all of her elfin senses had left when she time warped, Bernard thought; but mentally sensitive people like her often had a 'sixth sense' about things like that.

Finally, after about six blocks, Ellington stopped in the middle of the street. "Well, come out then," she yelled, her back still to him.

Bernard halted...who was she talking to?

With a sigh, Ellington said, "Yes, _you_ behind the lamppost. Really, learn to find better hiding places, why don't you!" But she didn't sound put out...more happy, actually. Laughter was in her voice, and she looked like the old Ellington again. Happy, laughing, kind...it made him want to step out and just gush out everything he'd kept from her, he was so glad to see her like that again...

Bernard, three lampposts down, could see a girl, about Ellington's age, hiding behind another lamppost; then closest one to Ellington. So she hadn't been talking to him, after all. Bernard was relieved and disappointed at the same time.

The girl was dressed in a long, light blue pea coat that was similar in style to Ellington's green one. Her hair was a very light blonde, almost white, but straight; and it was pinned up in a similar style to Ellington's own updo. Something tickled in the back of Bernard's mind when he saw her, as if he should know who she was, but he couldn't put a finger on it.

The girl popped out from behind the lamppost, giggling madly. "You know, I don't think I'm ever going to win this game. We've been playing for three months and I still haven't trailed you to school without you knowing!" She came over and gave Ellington a hard shove...almost across the sidewalk.

Ellington just rolled her eyes; but she was smiling. It was becoming rather obvious that the girls were friends...maybe even best friends. Linking arms with Ellington, the girl took the second drink from from her with a sigh. "Thanks, dear. You know how I love a good cocoaccino."

Their fingers grazed on the drink, and Ellington shivered. "Geez, Jacquie, you need to cover your hands in this kind of weather! They're fricken cold, and I _am_ wearing gloves!"

"Come on, Ellington. We've been friends for how many years? My hands are always cold," the girl replied lightly. "When you're from as far north as I am, you don't mind the cold so much. For me, it's normal."

"You've told me that before," Ellington said. "I just have a hard time believing that those popsicles won't get frostbite, eventually."

"That's about as likely as someone trailing you successfully," Jacquie laughed. But she glanced behind, and found Bernard instantly in the crowd, her bright blue eyes giving him a warning look.

And that's when Bernard recognized her. He should have seen it right away, actually; but she was obviously in a bit of a disguise. Jacquie of the blue coat was none other than Jacqueline Frost, Jack Frost's Legate, sister, and quite frankly, better half, in a loose sense. They had met a couple of times at Council meetings, but with her being Jack's Legate, Bernard had for the most part steered clear of her. But he knew she wasn't evil like her brother, so his reaction to seeing her with Elle now was one of relief, and not anxiety.

So someone _was_ watching out for Ellington; keeping Jack away from her. This was an enormous relief to Bernard, who had been terribly worried when Jack disappeared after their little spat. He had been afraid that Jack had warped after her and was continuing to screw stuff up, but luckily, it didn't appear to be so. She was safe, in this time, and apparently quite content.

The girls continued off down the street, laughing and talking, until they turned in at a building and went in using a side door. Bernard knew better than to follow them in, but decided he should try to see what was going on inside. He skirted the building until he found some low windows...but 'low' meant, about seven and a half feet off the ground. Gritting his teeth and dropping his bag below the windows, Bernard began to scale a nearby drainpipe. He had gotten about five feet up when...

"You look ridiculous up there."

It was Jacqueline.

She was watching him with her arms crossed and an amused expression. "Are you seriously that desperate to keep eyes on Elle?"

Bernard nearly fell off the drainpipe. "Well, if you were me, wouldn't you be worried?"

"Maybe; but not nearly as obsessive." Jacquie shook her head. "How long have you been here?"

"Just since this morning," said Bernard, crawling back down to the ground. "How long have _you_ been here? _What_ are you doing here?"

"Glad to see you too," said Jacquie sarcastically. "After I found out about what Jack had been up to in the Pole, especially with Elle, I felt it my duty to help fix what my counterpart had messed up. I didn't have the pocket watch, obviously; to put things back the way they were. And that's not my job; it's yours. But I've been doing what I can to be there for Ellington during the shock waves of her time shift."

"For how long?"

"Oh, about seven years." Jacquie laughed. "Elle and I have been friends for quite some time. It's been fun...that is, during the times when she isn't sporadically depressed."

"Depressed? Ellington?" Bernard looked confused. "Jacqueline, what's going on? I haven't had time to read her new file. Something's different about her, and I can't figure out what."

"You really don't get it, do you? What you did to her?" Seeing Bernard's bewildered look, Jacquie's eyes grew cold...if you'll pardon the expression. "You broke her heart, Bernard. That's how Jack was able to trick her. That, and Cupid being a little too free with his Vulnerability arrows."

"Cupid shot her?" asked Bernard, appalled. "When?"

"When you were flirting with Jack's cover-girl elf!" hissed the cryokinetic sprite, in utter irritation. Ellington was very much her friend, and she was more than a little wrathful towards the somewhat aloof Head Elf. "Just like he stuck you with a Courage arrow!"

"What?"

"Oh _come on,_ Bernard! You didn't honestly think that you just suddenly had enough courage to tell Elle you loved her, _on your own?_"

"My first mistake." Bernard said regretfully. He honestly hadn't figured that out.

"No," Jacquie corrected with an angry toss of her head, "your _first_ mistake was ignoring her in the first place, your _second,_ not noticing that Jack was ghosting her, the entirety of her stay: watching for a chance to get between you and Elle (which was all too easy for him, thanks to you); and the _third, _ was that _you knew_ you loved her, _you KNEW!_ And you didn't tell her." Jacqueline was fuming...literally. Wisps of dry ice were flowing from her lips with each and every word she spoke. "I'm not one to disagree with the Council, but personally, I don't know why they let you come after her. You don't _deserve _her."

Bernard was ashamed. Obviously, what she said was true; and he felt awful—no, _way beyond_ awful, _horrendous_ about the way he had managed things, with both Ellington and the Clause. "How do you know all of this?"

"Of course that would be your response," scoffed the icy girl. She stared off into the distance. "Ellington's telepathy is stronger in this reality. She knows how to use it—both to read the thoughts of others, and to transmit her thoughts into others' minds. Sometimes...when we were younger, I would see snippets of her dreams during sleepovers. It was part of the transference, you know? I'm her best friend here, and she trusts me, so I guess her guard was down. Anyway, some nights she would dream of her old life; sometimes of her time at the Pole...and sometimes, of you."

"Me?" Hope shot up in Bernard's mind. "Does she...?"

"No, she doesn't remember you," Jacqueline said. "And all of her dreams were nightmares. _All of them,_ even the ones with you. She never remembered them when she woke up, either. She still has them, even now. Sometimes she calls me in the middle of the night, after a really bad one. I don't suppose she's ever had one good dream her whole life. I spoke to Sandman about it, but he said that some magic was working on her, and there was nothing we could do."

"It's the Nightmare dust, all over again." All of this was his fault, Bernard realized. He shouldn't have been so stubborn. Now his choices were affecting the one person he didn't want to hurt. "It's hopeless," Bernard said, staring at the cement pavement of the walkway. "Jack was right. I failed her, in so many ways. I have no chance of...of ever bringing her back."

"Oh don't be such a drama elf. It's not that bad," said Jacqueline.

"Not that _BAD!_" Bernard laughed bitterly. "Jacquie, it's awful! You've just pointed out all of the ways I've ruined everything; and that's just the tip of the iceberg! How else could I have messed up on this? Honestly, I wait seventeen_ hundred years_ to be interested in _anyone_, and look what I've done with it! Let's see... I've caused an alternate reality, set the Workshop behind by fourteen weeks, and broken the heart of the girl I..." He trailed off.

"You still can't even say it, can you?" Jacquie chuckled. "Bernard, I'm pissed as all get out with you, because you broke my best friend's heart. It's my job to give you an earful! You think you're the only one who's been waiting for hundreds of years for something? I've been waiting _for a friend._ And I've finally found one. And as much as I hate to condone your behavior...a lot of good has come out of this shenanigans." She paused. "Also, the Council has told me I have to help you two get back together. Or get together, since you never really were together in the first place...augh! This is messy, alright. But still. I'm here...for Elle, mainly, but also for you."

With a sigh, Bernard picked up his bag. "Thank you for that. Really, it means a lot. But still, I'm totally screwed. Elle doesn't even know who I am."

"Well, then I guess you're lucky she's not dating," said Jacquie with a grin.

Bernard face palmed. "I hadn't even...thought of that."

"Thought of what?" asked the winter sprite. "That guys might actually be interested in Ellington, or that you could pose as one of those guys to win back her heart?"

"I..." Bernard's jaw dropped. "You mean..._date _her? Me?!"

A surprised look. "Easy, easy. _If_ you can get that far. Elle's pretty choosy. But if you've got her best friend on her side..." Jacquie nudged him meaningfully. "I know what she's looking for. You might just have a chance."

"Oh burnt gingerbread," Bernard said embarrassedly. He rubbed his face for a minute.

"Well? Do you want my help or not?" pressed Jacquie impatiently, tapping the toe of her dark blue velvet boots. "Cupid will owe me big time for this one."

Throwing up his hands in defeat, Bernard cried, "Ugh! Fine. I know I've got to..."

"...Stop being so antisocial," finished Jacquie. She raised an eyebrow. "And learn to access your romantic side. Also, get some normal clothes. Haven't you heard of a _disguise_? You can't walk around Seattle dressed as an elf, Bernard. I thought you had better common sense than that. People are going to think you work at Kohl's."

Bernard looked down at his outfit in shock. "But... I made an effort not to dress elfish!"

Jacquie sighed. "Then you're also going to need some better fashion sense. Money can't buy that; however it _can _buy clothes. Have you got any money?"

There was the wallet. Bernard pulled it from the bag and showed her the American Express.

"Sheesh! The Big Guy went all out for you, didn't he?" Linking arms with him, Jacquie led him back towards the street. "Guess money's not a problem, then. I think it's time you had a makeover, Mr. Head Elf."

* * *

**Lol Bernard is such a noob, it's hilarious. X'D Sort of out of his element, though. Good thing Jacquie's there to help him along. And Elle's new life isn't quite as perfect as Jack professed, is it?**

**I know this doesn't have a whole lot of plot momentum, but I needed to lay out the scenery for our new time/reality.**

**And I own none of these places in Seattle. ;) Well, except Ellington's house. (See disclaimer.) So nobody sue me!**

**Again, all kudos, worships, and chocolate truffles to ****_SafyreSky_****, for her ingenious invention of Jacqueline Frost and her totally badass Legate system! *massive applause*Read ****_SafyreSky's Meet the Frosts,_**** if you haven't already! It's really good, and there's a whole lot about Jacquie. Her backstory, if you like. IT'S AWESOME PEOPLE! Seriously. I recommend it, and so does Ellington. LOL  
**

**Lots of New Year's Martenelli's(or whatever carbonated apple cider you prefer) for you all! *Opens massive case of said beverage***

**And, in celebration of the New Year, please drop me a new leaf! I mean line! I mean review! (Get the picture? I'd love to hear from you.)**

**(This makes more sense than ever...) Cheers!**

**-Ana **


	11. Hello Seattle

**Hey guys!**

**So guess what? This mean dog named Life has been terrorizing my neighborhood. On Friday of last week, it snuck up behind me and bit me right square on the butt, and...**

**Not buying the story? **

**Drat.**

**(Insert Usual Disclaimers here.)**

**Also: I don't own Disney. But you knew that.**

**Anyway, sorry for the delay! Hope you guys are still paying attention. This chapter has lots of fluffy interactions, bad dreams, and oddly enough, cinnamon. Also: Bernard yells at someone over the phone, and it's probably not who you'd guess (probably.) **

**All kudos, shout outs, and cookies to ****_Safyre Sky,_**** for her creation and sharing of Jacqueline Frost. For those of you who haven't read it, go checkout ****_Meet the Frosts,_**** it's really, really great and (in my opinion) under reviewed. *hint hint***

**Hope you guys are having a less eventful New Year than I am! Or at least eventful in a better way...**

**All the Best!**

**-Ana**

* * *

11. Hello Seattle

It was eight thirty before Jacquie and Bernard made it back downtown. Then they took a bus to a large mall, Pacific Place. Jacquie insisted that Bernard did NOT need to shop trendy; rather, classic, which better matched Ellington's taste anyway.

"Nordstrom and such for you, Bernie," Jacquie quipped, steering him away from the Cinnabon booth with a vengeance. The elf probably couldn't help it, but that was just it...he already looked like an elf; he didn't need to _smell_ more like one until_ after_ they had gotten him new clothes. "No, no Cinnabons. You already smell like potpourri, anyway. The whole Workshop does. I don't know how you guys can stand the smell of all that cinnamon."

"Do NOT call me Bernie," Bernard said irritably. His food schedule was all screwed up from the time zone difference, so he wasn't sure if he needed breakfast or dinner. Either way, he was hungry. "And is it really that strong? The cinnamon?"

"You reek of it, said Jacquie, narrowly avoiding a slippery patch of freshly mopped floor, " but hey, that reminds me, you're not using you're real name, are you? With Elle?"

"Why not?" Bernard wrestled his arm away. "And would you stop? You're gripping me so hard that I'm getting frostbite under my coat."

"Ugh, spoilsport," muttered the winter sprite, but she released her grip a bit. "Well? You didn't answer my question."

I...don't know," admitted Bernard. "After all, you didn't change _your _name when you came into the picture."

"Yes, but I didn't _break Elle's heart_, in a different dimension." Jacquie dug him in the ribs.

"OW!"

"Oh, don't be such a baby." She stopped in front of a store. "Ooh, let's go in here. They've got good shoes."

They went in. Bernard sat for what seemed like hours (but was really only forty five minutes) while Jacquie called for various different kinds of shoes and shoved them into Bernard's hands. "Try these on," she commanded, and he did, grudgingly. Knowing that he was doing this for Elle's benefit definitely helped him through the ordeal...that is, until a pair of high tops were handed to him.

"NO," he said severely, "I DO NOT WEAR SNEAKERS. EVER."

"What, not dressy enough for you?"

"No. Not nearly. Whatever happened to classic?"

"Right, right." Jacquie relented, and, re-pinning up her long straight hair with conviction, she sent for more shoes.

They settled on some dress shoes, a pair of boots, and other, plainer footwear that Bernard picked himself...which put Jacquie out a bit, but made Bernard feel a bit better. At least he got to choose how the makeover changed him; especially as he wasn't too keen on makeovers to begin with. For the most part, Bernard was 'allowed' to make his own choices about clothing...but Jacquie gave him pointers in the right direction, and was incessantly handing him things to try on. By the time they made it to their fifth store (while charging everything to the American Express), Bernard's fashion sense was clear enough that she could stop showing him stuff that he wasn't going to approve of.

"You know, your taste in clothing is decidedly...sensible," Jacquie commented, as she looked at the cart full of subdued tones. "Oh, who am I _kidding?_ Bernard, this is awful. We need to start over."

"What?! No!" Bernard looked horrified. "I was just about ready to be done!"

"Are you joking?" Seeing his expression, Jacquie figured he wasn't. "Okay, maybe not. You officially make the world's worst rich person. You _hate_ this, don't you?"

"It's definitely not my favorite thing to do, no."

"Well, then." She walked away in a huff. Bernard hurried after her.

"Ugh, look, I'm sorry, okay? You've been...really helpful. Jacquie? Come back! I need your help with this!"

Jacquie stopped in her tracks, and turned slowly to face Bernard. "You? Need help? _That's_ a joke."

"Not, it's not." Bernard rubbed at his face. "Look, you said it yourself, okay? I've become...sort of obsessed with Elle. But...obsessed isn't quite the right word...more like...like..."

"Like you're in love," Jacquie said with a small smile. Bernard said nothing, but merely gave her a shrug and a meaningful look. Her somewhat 'icy' facade broken, Jacquie was a little more understanding then she'd been before. "Oh, alright. Let's get you some professional help." And taking him by the arm again, she led him towards a salesperson.

* * *

It had been a long day at school, a longer day at home. The Connelly's were packing for their holiday, and Ellington, without any sleep the night before, was wiped out. Upon returning home, she stumbled blearily to her room, firing off a quick text to Jacquie that she hadn't waited around campus, but had taken a taxi home. It had been an odd day; from feeling that she was being followed on the way to school (yes, even _after_ Jacquie had joined her) to the raging headache she'd had since lunch. So Elle had flung herself on her bed, and was lost to the world for quite some time.

_It was that morning all over. She was walking to school, carrying the morning's drinks as usual when she felt it. Again. That tingling that started in her stomach and spread throughout her body to the very tips of her fingers. She turned in the street, and this time, instead of just seeing the throbbing mass of morning commuters, one figure stood out sharply to her eye. It was a boy - well, young man would be a bit more accurate - wearing a long brown trench-coat, green beret and red and green scarf. He wore a large green satchel at his side, and was holding something in his hand. His eyes were a rich chocolate brown; full of emotion, even through the deep brown curls falling into his eyes. And his ears...the distance was about twenty feet, but somehow, she could see that his ears were..._pointed.

_She paused, knowing she had seen him before. Images of a cold, bright blue place, and a big building with beautiful stained glass windows flashed through her mind. And a moment...she was in a memory, buried in the dark red, soft folds of someone's shirt..._his_ shirt, she realized. She wasn't sure how she knew, but there it was. she had been crying, and he had consoled her..._

_'I...I lost you,' she had said. _

_He hadn't said anything for a moment, but something changed. It was as if he suddenly gave off a sort of warmth that made her bury her face deeper, try to be closer..._

_It was strange, yet lovely, and Ellington knew she hadn't wanted it to end._

_Then he'd kissed her forehead, and suddenly, she was all on fire. 'Shhhh...it's over now. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. Okay?'_

_Ellington couldn't remember what her original response had been. A new one had taken over. she burst into fresh, convulsive sobs. 'Where did you go?!'_

_There was no reply._

_'Where did you go!?' she cried again. 'I needed you, and you left me here...alone. Again. Why aren't you HERE? Why am I alone?'_

_Who was he?_

_Then, she was back on the street, and that boy with the pointed ears was giving a lopsided grin. But there were tears on his cheeks._

_'You left me, Elle' he was saying. 'I hurt you, and you left.'_

_'No.' It couldn't be. It wasn't right. She _needed_ to be with him... why would she have done such a thing? And what could he have done to drive her away? 'No. I need you,' she said, a cold breeze overtaking her in the street and intensifying her loneliness. 'Still, I need you. Even here. Why don't you come for me? Why do you leave me here, without you?'_

_He smiled faintly. 'Oh Elle.' The words made her heart fall to pieces. 'I already am.'_

_'Who are you?' she asked again. _

_He said nothing, but kept smiling at her sorrowfully. 'Try to remember me,' he said finally. 'When you're awake. Try to remember me.'_

_Then, he disappeared. Ellington gave a little cry...and there she was, by the streetlamps._

_Jacquie tackled her from the side again. 'Hey you!' Seeing Ellington's expression, she stopped. 'Did you see him?'_

_'See who?' Ellington asked, carefully._

_'Him.' Jacquie pointed back at a lamppost, the third farthest away. There was the boy again, trying to hide behind it. 'He loves you, you know.'_

_'Who is he?' Ellington wondered, experiencing that strange feeling of deja vu one more time._

_'Don't you remember your one and true?' asked Jacquie, appalled. 'Think, Elle. Remember.'_

_Ellington thought as hard as she could, her mind racing through strange memories that weren't her own; yet she was in them._

_And then, she knew._

_He grinned at her, as if he saw that she had found it._

_And in a rush of joy, she yelled out..._

* * *

"Bernard!"

Ellington sat bolt upright on her bed. Her face was wet, and she was sweating profusely.

Annise rushed into the room, with Dottie hot on her rooms were just next door. "Ellington?! Are you okay?" Seeing their big sister's state, their faces fell, and grew troubled.

"Another nightmare?" Dottie asked sadly. Ellington nodded, her eyes brimming with tears. She buried her face in her hands.

"It must have been a really bad one, then." Annise came and sat next to Ellington on the bed, and rubbed her back in a soothing way. "There there. It was just a dream."

"I...I know," Ellington admitted. "But...something was different this time. I can feel it."

"Still don't remember anything?" Dottie watched her concernedly. Something pricked in the back of Ellington's mind, and she had the oddest idea, that someone else was speaking through Dottie, trying to remind her...

"No." Ellington took a deep breath. "You know I never do."

This was one of the worst parts of her nightmares. She could never remember what she had dreamed of... "But... I get the feeling that it wasn't all that bad. Just...it upset me somehow."

"And...how is that not bad?" asked Dottie, confused.

"I don't know." Ellington sighed, and straightened herself out. "Do I always have to make sense?"

"Yes," laughed Annise, "you're Ellington."

The girls all laughed at this, but privately Ellington was wondering at just how much about her _didn't _ make sense. The nightmares, the odd feelings, the telepathy...it was beginning to seem like the list of things that didn't make sense was growing longer and longer.

The doorbell rang downstairs. "Ugh," said Dottie with a roll of her eyes. "It's that Douglas Kensing again."

"He's been at the door since you got home, ringing and ringing," Annise said, annoyed. "I told him you were busy, but he just keeps coming back. I hope he gets snowed on."

"Says he wants to take you to the Silver Bell Ball." With a gag, Dottie said, "Ew. Click-hee, much?"

"Um...what?" Ellington looked amused.

"Click-hee," Dottie said again. "You know, when something is like uber radio-typical."

"Wait." Annise thought. "You...don't mean cliché? And, stereotypical?"

A face palm from Ellington. "Please don't remind me what you're _not_ learning in school, Dottie."

Dottie scowled. "I am top of my class."

"Then don't introduce me to your teacher," Ellington said with a snort.

"You uppity b**ches," whined Dottie. "And I don't see why so many boys tag along after you, Elles. This is the third one this week, and you're such a dweeb!"

"Ignore him," Ellington told them with a laugh. "Hopefully, the guy will eventually get the picture: I am not _available_, because I'm not dating."

But a little voice in her mind said: _You're not available, because you're __taken__._

Wait..._what!?_

* * *

Jacquie and Bernard were both exhausted by the time they left the mall. Jacquie hailed a taxi, and they piled all of the boxes, bags and packages into the trunk and seats. Despite Bernard's protests, his frosty guide had insisted he buy an entire new wardrobe.

"And now to take it home," she said, sliding into the taxi next to Bernard. "Where are you staying, Bernard? Because it had better be good, given the type of clothing you're gonna be wearing."

Bernard pulled out the wallet again, and took out the slip of paper. He passed it to Jacquie. "Do you know where this is?"

Jacquie read the address. "1225 Holiday Drive?" she laughed outright. "Well, _that's _cliché. And yes...it's two streets away from Ellington's house. She lives at 1350 East Hill Street. Very upper class. Holiday Drive is a little more relaxed...I'd say you'll fit right in; probably won't be noticed. Normally the neighbors know each other well; but most families are off on expensive vacations for the holidays, and so aren't likely to notice a lonely elf bachelor living in a large house by himself. Hmm. Sort of reminds me of 'Beauty and the Beast' ." She told the driver the address, and off they went.

"Only _vaguely,_" said Bernard defensively. "Now, we've done all this shopping you insisted on. Won't you fill me in on Elle? She's...a different person than the girl I knew." He looked down at his hands. That sounded absolutely pitiful, he knew; but it was accurate.

"Sure." Leaning forward, Jacquie slid the glass window between them and the driver shut. "Alright, let's start with the basics: likes and dislikes. Umm...likes: snow—"

Bernard gave her a dubious look.

"What! It's not _all_ my doing. Snow, school—she's in college; writing, like she always wanted—the Children's Theatre (she loves the kids); _The Lord of the Rings,_ and _Star Trek..._"

"So not everything's changed."

"No, I guess not. Oh, she's got this _huge_ crush on Karl Urban, too. I think it has to do with Bones...but don't ask. Anyway, let's see...red roses. She _loves_ red roses, but nobody buys them for her. Except for me, sometimes, and trust me, that makes for some odd jokes."

So they talked for quite some time, Jacquie animatedly explaining the minutiae of Ellington's preferences as only a best friend can do.

"One more thing," she said finally. "Don't ever let her fool you with her sarcastic shield: Elle is a _hopeless_ romantic. Like, really hopeless. You should have seen her this one time, when someone proposed in front of the Space Needle...we were just passing by; but the look on her face..." Jacquie shook her head. "No, I think, Bernard, that if you do things right, you could really win her heart this time."

"Let's hope you're right," said Bernard with a sigh. "The list of things I need to do differently is almost as long as the Naughty and Nice List."

"Really? That long?"

"No. Longer," Bernard dead panned.

"Well, at least you know it," Jacquie laughed, as she looked out the window. Then she sat up straighter. "Hey! This is East Hill. Look Elle's house is just there...the big one, with the holly bushes."

"I'm...not sure that counts as a house," Bernard said, a bit weakly. "More of a mansion."

"Oh." This hadn't occurred to Jacquie, whose family really _did_ live in a mansion. "Hey, I just got an idea. Elle's family's headed out of town too... Elle's the only one staying behind. I've got her sworn into a holiday long, Disney movie marathon. You should come."

"Yeah, because that wouldn't be _amazingly _awkward."

"HEY!"

"I'm just saying."

"You pill," Jacquie huffed, and signaled for the taxi to pull over. "You go take this stuff to your bachelor pad. I think I've had enough of you for one day."

"Wait, Jacquie—"

But she was out and across the street.

* * *

Seeing 'that annoying Douglas Kensing' as she and Elle called him, outside of the house, Jacquie hid behind one of the large trees lining the street and frosted his fingers.

He gave up in seconds, and went away.

Feeling very satisfied, Jacquie waltzed up to Elle's house and went right in (call it privileges of being a best friend for years.)

"Elle!" she hollered, shaking off her coat. It had begun to snow.

"Ellington's upstairs dear," said Josette, rushing by with several shirts in hand. "Phillip, you didn't pack..."

Josette didn't stick around to hear the rest. She barreled up the stairs to Elle's room.

Annise and Dottie were just coming out.

"Hey," said Jacquie, then stopped. Their faces wore that look, the look she hated to see.

"It's happened again," Annise said solemnly.

"Did she remember anything?"

"NO, as usual," Dottie said, then frowned. "Although..."

"Although, what?" Jacquie asked suspiciously.

"She yelled a name, when she woke up. Barnaby, I think."

Jacquie's eyes widened.

"No," Annise corrected, "it was Bernard."

"That's what I said. Bernard," said Dottie firmly.

Annise wasn't buying it. "Gosh, Dottie; you hearing is so crappy sometimes. You were the one just outside the door!"

"Is she feeling okay?" Jacquie knew how long they could go on like this, and wanted to talk to Elle even more now.

"Yeah, I guess. As much as can be expected," said Annise. "Hey, I've been meaning to ask; do you guys have any plans for the holidays?"

"Well, my parents are going up north to visit our relatives and friends, so I'm stuck watching Fino and Fiera," said Jacquie restlessly. "Hope you guys have fun in Hawaii, though. Elle and I are going to have a Disney movie marathon, so we're going to be having loads of fun."

"Right." Dottie grinned. "Are you still going to try to take her clubbing?"

With a laugh, Jacquie said, "If she'll agree to it, yeah. Your dad owns some of the best clubs in Seattle; and we're both in college. Age shouldn't have to be a problem."

"It isn't, when you have money," said Dottie. "Trust me."

"Girls, you'd better be packing! The car will be here in half an hour!" Josette called up the staircase, and Annise and Dottie rushed off. Jacquie gratefully went into Elle's room.

Ellington was still sitting on her bed. "Hey," she said, a bit weakly.

"Hey." Jacquie came and sat on the bed. "The girls told me."

"It wasn't that bad," Elle shrugged.

"But it happened," said Jacquie quietly. Ellington didn't reply.

"Do you remember anything?"

That tickle again. It was stronger when Jacquie said it.

"I..." Elle sucked air. "I feel like I should." She sat up straight. "Jacquie, that was it. I was supposed to remember something. In my dream."

"How can you be sure?" Jacquie asked, surprised. "You've never remembered your dreams before. Ever."

"I just know it." She sat with a focused expression on her face as she tried to remember what it was...

And she was subconsciously broadcasting into Jacquie's mind.

Only Jacquie could see what Elle couldn't. The whole dream.

She smiled. The magic was beginning to work.

Ellington, for her part, was utterly baffled. "Ugh! I hate this, Jacquie! I_ hate_ it!"

"Why don't you go take a shower," Jacquie suggested. "It'll make you feel better. Then, after we see your family off, we'll order some dinner and watch a movie, okay? Anything you want."

"Can...we watch _The Fellowship_?" Elle asked tentatively.

"Sure," said Jacquie with a smile. Elle watched Disney for her, and she watched _The Lord of the Rings_ for Elle. It was mutual. And besides, she knew that it was sort of her job to keep Elle from spiraling into a funk like she sometimes did after these 'dreams'.

"Well...okay." Ellington dragged herself off of the bed, and into the bathroom. "Can we order pizza?"

"YES!" Both girls loved pizza. "And ice cream!"

"Yeah!" Elle was already feeling better. Jacquie always perked her up.

Forty five minutes later, they were outside waving as the 'car', a short limo actually, drove away with Elle's family inside.

And then the shuttle with their luggage.

"I swear," said Elle confidentially to Jacquie, "they will never learn what it means to pack lightly."

Jacquie snorted. "At least they took the pets. I don't know about you, but I didn't want to feed that monster that is Dottie's hamster."

"Agreed," said Elle, then shivered. "Brrr, it's cold out here. Come on, let's go order food."

"Okay." Then Jacquie remembered. "Wait, I gotta make a call really quick. Go on in; I'll just be a minute."

"Oh, okay," said Ellington, and high tailed it to warmer quarters.

Dialing Bernard, Jacquie felt a pang of guilt for ditching him like that. But he was being a pest, so...

The call went to voicemail. "Frostbite," said Jacquie irritably, then left a message. "Hey, Bernard; it's Jacquie. Call me back when you get this...I have some good news that I think you'll want to hear."

* * *

Yes, Bernard had made it 'home' alright; if you could call a place that you'd never seen before in your long, long elfin life 'home'.

1225 Holiday Drive was a big house with a gigantic pine tree in the front and a bright red door. It looked very festive; as it had been thoroughly decorated. Seeing the wreath on the front door, Bernard knew at once that elves had done it: there was tinsel woven through the branches, and anyway, he doubted that any human could decorate a house so perfectly.

Luckily for him, the taxi driver helped him carry in all of his bags. Not having any cash on him, Bernard simply handed the driver his card with an apologetic look...though, upon reflection, he wasn't sure why he should be apologetic for paying with an American Express.

When the driver had gone, and he'd shut the door behind him, Bernard took in the house. It was cozy; a little less magnificent as the rest of the houses on the street; and the layout gave it a comforting, homelike feeling. Thankfully, the entire house was furnished (something Bernard had failed to realize might be a problem) decorated as nicely as the exterior, and the heat was on, so he didn't have to arrive to a cold house. Someone had made an effort.

Finding the card on the table by the door, he knew who.

_Bernard,_

_Call me when you arrive...there are some things I didn't get to tell you before you left._

_Hope you like the house. Judy was very proud of what she did with it._

_Have you found Ellington yet?_

_Curtis says hi, and not to worry. He's only had two accidents in the 7 hours you've been gone, and is rather happy about that._

_Can't wait for you and Ellington to get back._

_S.C._

"No pressure, no pressure," said Bernard to himself, with a shake of his head. He left the bags in the entryway and flopped down on the living room sofa, exhausted and not a little discouraged. No doubt the 'some things I didn't tell you' had to do with Jacquie, and the other changes with Ellington.

Not only was Elle rich; she was beautiful, had a best friend, and a life of her own. How on _earth_ was he going to compete with that? She had everything!

_Everything but you_, said a voice in his mind. But that was garbage; Jacquie had made it quite clear that Elle had plenty of guys after her.

Realizing that thinking about the situation wasn't helping things, Bernard pulled out his Real phone and checked it. Jacquie had called; he didn't want to deal with that right now. He didn't need to be told even one more time how much Elle didn't need him.

Instead, he called Santa.

Bernard used his Pole phone to make the call. Santa answered on the third ring. "Bernard! How—Curtis, get that _thing_ out of my face! I told you, I'll look at it later! Tell the elves to use the old model until I have time to approve the new one! And I don't care if we've run out of scotch tape! Use packing tape! Use duct tape! Use any kind of tape you can find, and don't come back until you've used all of that, too!" A door slammed. "Geez."

"Sounds like you're having fun," said Bernard wryly. "Miss me yet?"

"More than you know," said Scott miserably. He sighed. "So what's up, Number One? Any progress?"

"Well..." Bernard wasn't sure what to say.

"That doesn't sound good," said Santa.

"No, it's not really." Bernard groaned, and ran a hand through his hair. "Santa, she's so different."

"That's not surprising; alternate timeline, you know." Not exactly the answer Bernard was hoping for; but it was oddly comforting.

"And then there's Jacqueline Frost."

"What about Jacqueline Frost?"

Bernard sat up. "You mean, you didn't know she was here?"

"No...wait, she _there_? In Seattle?"

"Yeah, she's been Elle's best friend for like seven years."

"Oh, boy." A pause. "Well, actually that's a good thing. We know that Jack's not bothering her, and that's crucial. He can't mess up the timeline anymore...which is what I wanted to tell you."

Bernard's stomach fell. "What?"

Santa sighed again. "Well, Father Time went back and took another look at the timeline. Get ready, because this is a bit tricky. Apparently, Time itself is tunnel shaped. Imagine a pipe, sort of. When Jack disrupted the timeline, it split the pipe in two. Now, the half of the pipe that is the old reality stays the same—it doesn't grow, because nothing's happening there."

"Go on," said Bernard, wondering where this was going.

"But the half of the pipe that is the new reality continues to grow, because we're living in it. And eventually, the further it grows away from the old reality, the more differences there are, and the longer it takes, well then... then old reality will begin to fade."

"You mean _disappear?!"_ cried Bernard.

"OW!"

"Sorry."

"And...yes. The old reality will cease to exist, and we will all be trapped here."

A stunned silence.

"Well that," said Bernard, his voice catching, "is very umm..._Star Trek_."

"Yeah," said Scott ruefully. "Yeah, it is."

"So...how long do we have? Until the fading begins?"

"Bernard, don't you get it? It's already started."

Another long pause.

Then a groan.

"Bernard..." said Santa warningly, "Bernard, don't you give up now..."

"I'M NOT GIVING UP!" Bernard yelled. The news was bad enough, but condescension was the last straw. "My GOD, I'm the one here, doing this! Finding her! Trying to make this right! You didn't tell me to come, I CAME ON MY OWN! So stop acting like I'm going to bail out on it! I'm the one who always has to give what matters to me up for the sake of Christmas...well you know what, if Christmas has to give up something for me, then so be it! Screw Jack, screw time tunnels, and screw Christmas! I love her, and I'M NOT LEAVING!" Bernard hung up, and threw the phone across the room, where it shattered against the wall.

And yes: he sat there and cried for a little bit.

The only thing Bernard figured that he had in his favor at this point was the Clause. The Emissary Clause and its magic had chosen Ellington, and no other competing force of magic could overrule it's decision. They were mean to be; and no distance or time could change that.

God, did that sound cliché.

But it _was_ true.

He just wished that magic would start working on his side again.

Bernard's Real phone rang again. It was Jacquie.

He considered letting it go to voicemail...

But then he picked up.

"Hey Bernard! There you are!'

"Hey."

"Uh...you sound a bit nasally."

Bernard sniffed.

"Oh my gosh, have you been _crying?_"

"Shut up," Bernard said, but it lacked the snap it should have had. "I'm having a terrible time." The word _time_ made him grit his teeth again. "I just found out that he old reality is fading away each moment I'm here, so that we might all be stuck in this reality; then I yelled at Santa, and I'm pretty sure I said 'screw Christmas'."

"Wow," Jacquie said, appalled. "That _is_ pretty bad."

"What's happening to me, Jacquie?" Bernard muttered. "I've been acting like...like...what was it Elle used to say? 'Don't be such a...'"

"Teenage prima-donna," said Jacquie, "although now that she's in college she prefers the term 'Mary-Sue'. It means a stereotypical helpless female character."

"Yeah. That."

"Well, I don't know what to tell you, Bernard. You're out of your element here."

"Are you kidding? I've been in cities before. This shouldn't be a problem."

"But you weren't emotionally compromised then. I don't think you know how to handle being in love, Bernard."

"It hurts." Bernard sighed, and stared at the flames in the fireplace. "Is it supposed to hurt like this?"

"Sometimes. Mostly when you're..." Jacquie paused. "Apart. Mostly when you're apart. Bernard, you need to come over. To Elle's. Now."

"What? Why? No!" Suddenly faced with the opportunity he wanted, Bernard wanted to stall.

"Because when I got here, she'd just had one of her nightmares. That's what I called to tell you. She _dreamed of you._ today, of all days. She senses you're here. She told me herself that she feels like she's waiting for something."

"It's the magic," whispered Bernard in disbelief. "It's finally working again."

"Her family's left; it's just us. Come over. You can hang out...and hey, even if it's a bit awkward, at least you should get some relief from being around her."

The desperation hit him again. "Okay," Bernard said suddenly. "I'll do it."

* * *

"Elle!"

"Yeah! In the kitchen!" Ellington was eating a bowl of cinnamon toast crunch.

"Why are you eating cereal? It's like six thirty in the evening."

I can eat cereal whenever I want," said Ellington testily. "It's my house, for now. And anyway, I've been having this really strong craving for cinnamon ever since I woke up."

"Odd," said Jacquie, with a knowing look. The she saw Elle's outfit. "Red PJ's?"

Ellington gave her a confused stare. "What wrong with red pajamas? I love red."

"Nothing's_ wrong_ with red," said Jacquie lightly. _But that particular shade of maroon...and the gold buttons..._ "Hey, by the way, I invited someone over."

Ellington nearly choked. Instead, she spewed cinnamon milk across the counter. "_What?!_"

Jacquie laughed at her expression. "Chill out. He's an old family friend, really low key."

"HE?! Jacquie! I'm in my PJ's!"

Jacquie shrugged. "He won't mind."

"_I freaking mind!_ Call him back and tell him not to come."

"No."

"Jacquie..." Elle whined.

"I can't," said Jacquie simply, trying to avoid laughing at how childish Elle was acting. "He's already here."

"Wha..."

The doorbell rang.

Ellington leapt up, knocking over the stool. "Tell him I can't see him!" she hissed.

"In your dreams," said Jacquie, with more meaning then Elle knew was hidden there.

"Tell him I'm not here! Tell him I went to bed!"

"Elle, again, it's six thirty. Nobody would believe that."

"Well, then tell him I'm five! I don't care!"

"Ugh, _come on,"_ Jacquie said, dragging the struggling Elle by the arm towards the front door, as she protested the entire way. "Don't be such a baby."

"I...don't...have...my makeup on!" Elle struggled. She gasped. "Damn you and your superhuman strength!"

They made it to the door. Jacquie stopped dragging Elle, and flung it open.

There, in the doorway, stood...

... the pizza delivery guy.

"Yes!' Ellington pumped her fists in the air in triumph, while Jacquie just scowled. She pushed forward and took the pizzas and soda from the guy, who was eyeing her in surprise.

"Nice PJ's," he said, but Elle merely gave him a fifty dollar bill and a disapproving look before closing the door.

"And now," she said happily, "you will find me in the living room, veg'ing out in front of the TV and watching LotR."

"Oh no you don't!" Jacquie hollered, chasing after a squealing Elle. "We're watching _Beauty and the Beast_ for that little stunt! Hey is that pepperoni?"

"Yeah, and the other's Hawaiian," Elle called back. "Stop chasing me, or the soda will be all foamy!"

"Whatever," Jacquie laughed. "I'll get the ice." Leaving off the chase, she went into the massive kitchen and found an ice caddy. With a shake and a "Hey presto!" just for fun, she filled the caddy with ice—magically, of course.

Her phone rang. Guess who? "Where are you?" Jacquie asked, trying not to drop the caddy while talking on the phone. "I actually got Elle to the door, but it was just the pizza guy! How long does it take to teleport? And I know how long, so don't give me any smart answers."

"I had to get changed," said Bernard simply. "I'm outside now."

Jacquie sighed. "Fine. I'm coming."

"Hey...where are the movies?" Elle called suspiciously from the living room. "And _why_ is _Beauty and the Beast _in the DVD player?"

"Told you we were gonna watch it!" said Jacquie with a wicked laugh. "Vengeance is _mine!_ Oh, and I suspended the On Demand for the night, so don't even bother."

"You fiend!"

Jacquie chuckled to herself on the way to the door.

And this time when she opened it there was...

Well, _was_ it Bernard?

His hair was brushed out so that it fell in looser curls, and a little into his eyes, covering the tips of his pointed ears. He was wearing a pair of dark wash jeans and a black shirt that fit...well, rather nicely. Over this he wore a long dark brown trench coat, reminiscent of his old one but more clean cut and adult. In fact, everything fit _very_ nicely. And...did he seem a bit taller? Jacquie would have been proud of her work, if she hadn't been so taken aback.

"What?" said Bernard nervously. His eyes got big and puppy-doggish. "Is it that bad?" Actually, he was alarmed.

"No, no!" Jacquie had to do a double take...and it only got better. "Damn," she said, after a pause, "You sure clean up nicely, don't you?"

"So it's okay?"

"No, you look stupid." Jacquie scoffed. "Stop being so self-conscious. You're...well, frankly, hot."

"Hot?"

Jacquie almost told him to knock it off, before realizing that he was seriously confused. "Um...good looking? Like, really good looking."

Bernard smiled, relieved. "Well, I guess we did okay shopping then."

"Yeah, but then...there's you, too. That's more than just clothes can do."

Bernard reddened.

"Yeah, yeah, okay. This is weird coming from me. Come on, and Elle will tell you herself."

Now he really reddened.

"Oh, for gosh sakes! Loosen up. We're watching _Beauty and the Beast_, and Elle's in her jammies." And she grabbed him by the hand and dragged him along before she could see him turn lobster red.

"Elle!" she hollered. "I've got the ice."

"Good!" Ellington said as they walked in. Her back was turned away as she inhaled pizza steam. "You know, I'm suddenly wishing we'd ordered Cinnabons." She turned around. "Oh but I forgot..."

Her eyes landed on Bernard.

Bernard wished he could fall through the floorboards, and yet fall into her arms at the same time, the relief (and strain) was so great.

"I forgot..." Elle repeated, not looking away. She was having the oddest feeling in the pit of her stomach. An intense...almost aching.

But the words meant more to Bernard.

"Um...hey," said Ellington shyly, tucking a few curls behind her ear.

"Hey," said Bernard, with a small wave. But he couldn't stop his eyes from shining.

And Elle couldn't stop from noticing.

Only... it didn't bother her. There was a sweetness in his eyes that she had never seen from anyone before. It made her feel all hot and fluttery inside.

"Elle," said Jacquie carefully, "this is..."

"Bernard," said Bernard with a small shrug at Jacquie. What else could he do, without making things even more confusing? And he didn't want to lie to Elle.

"I'm Ellington," said Ellington, feeling an odd feeling of déjà vu. She felt a crazy need to get out of the room. "I... forgot the cups. I'll just...go get the elves—I mean, cups." Why in the world had she said _elves?_

She grabbed Jacquie by the arm. "Excuse us," she said quickly, pulling her friend out of the room.

"What were you _thinking?!"_ she whispered furiously.

"What do you mean?" Jacquie asked, confused. "He's visiting from out of town, and like I said, he's an old family friend. Why wouldn't I invite him over?"

"Because," Ellington said, her patience wearing thin, "I am in my PJ's, with _no_ makeup on, and we've got Disney on!"

"What's embarrassing about Disney?"

"Augh!" Elle face palmed. "_Beauty and the Beast _is a romance, Jacquie. Even you know that."

"So?"

So you expect me to sit through that, with that..." Elle stumbled over her words. "That..._gorgeous_ person out there?"

Jacquie giggled. "Gorgeous? And you're all flustered because you think he's cute."

Elle rolled her eyes. "Good grief. Yes, gorgeous. I, Ellington Sophia Connelly, admitted a guy was _gorgeous." _She sighed, and bit her lip. "Honestly, you're not _at all_ attracted to him?"

"No." Jacquie said, making a face. "He's kind of like a...cousin, I guess. That would just be weird. Almost as weird as hearing you admit you think someone's hot." She grinned. "Why did you think I invited him over? I had a hunch you guys would _get along_."

"Oh, shut up." Ellington smacked Jacquie in the arm, trying to keep a straight face. But she burst out in a grin at her friend's cheeky smile. "You're terrible, you know."

"Come on," Jacquie said, taking her hand to lead her back into the living room. "This is going to be wonderful. You'll see. " She adapted a sing song voice. "Just let the magic take over...it knows what's best anyway. You'll be happier if you go with it."

"What magic?" asked Elle, with an odd feeling. That odd feeling of not remembering something. Come to think of it, the same feeling had come over her when she had set eyes on Bernard.

Jacquie drew up short. Then, her shoulders relaxed, and she turned, flashing Ellington a confident smile.

"The magic of Disney, of course."

* * *

**Who knew that Bernard would look so awesome in dark denim?**

**Okay, probably most of us.**

**Hot damn!**

**BTW, Hello Seattle is a song by Owl City, who I love. Call it Ellington's Choice, if you like.**

**Oh wait...**

**OH!**

**ELLINGTON'S CHOICE: ****_Hello Seattle by Owl City._**

**Right. My bad.**

**Reviews? Thoughts? Comments? Cinnabon donations? I accept them all! Please! Let me know what you have. (:**

**Remember to check out ****_Safyre Sky's_**** story, ****_Meet the Frosts._**** Jacquie is her OC, and her story is as awesome as she is! Thanks for all your insight, girl! **

**Cheers!**

**-Ana**


End file.
